Ripples
by 10000 Dead Roses
Summary: Changed Future: Every action has a reaction, every move you make will cause a ripple. When Chris Halliwell seeks out help in understanding the mysteries of his past self, there is so much more than he could ever expect bubbling under the surface.
1. Chris

Shrouded in the darkness of midnight in San Francisco, Christopher Halliwell bent over the ceremonial bowl he had placed on the makeshift altar. If his mother found out he was casting spells in the middle of the night he was sure there would be a long-winded lecture in his future. Even at eighteen and newly graduated, Chris was expected to keep his magic in check. Which had been a simple enough requirement to "follow" (as long as his mother never found out, it didn't count as far as he was concerned.)

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned as another memory tried to force its way into his brain like a searing hot needle being pushed through flesh. He tried to shrug off the pain and force the memory away but it bubbled to the surface and Chris clutched his head.

_He crept through the Halliwell manor, sliding through each shadow and remaining unnoticed. Demons stood guard at every door, no doubt with strict orders to bring him to Lord Wyatt should he ever be caught. Chris ducked behind the basement stairs to peer through the slatted steps, desperately waiting for a moment he could find a way out._

"_Going somewhere, Christopher?" a sly voice rasped into his ear before the world went black._

Chris was ripped from the memory and muffled his cry of pain. He hunched over for a long moment, rocking slightly as he waited for the lingering pain in his head to subside. When the world finally cleared from a hazy field of pain, the witch continued his spell.

The memories had begun innocently enough. At first he had only believed them to be strange dreams, flitting in and out of his mind every other night. As they progressed, however, entire nights were spent caught in a haze; in a world where nothing was right. It had been several months of sleepless nights before Chris had discovered their true meaning. His "other" self as he had dubbed it. His mother and father had explained everything, insisting they had just wanted to wait until he was 'ready' before dropping the ultimate bomb. Wyatt had shut himself in the basement for a week, only coming out when Chris had coaxed him.

Chris sprinkled poppy seeds into the ceremonial bowl and sighed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. He had been curious about his other self- who wouldn't be. The dreams had been enough, providing him with snippets of his past life and information of the unchanged future. Those he had been able to handle.

The flashbacks, he couldn't.

At the mere thought of the agonising pain, his spine rippled uncomfortably. They were a recent development, one he had yet to mention to his parents or Wyatt. His older brother would hide away again, disgusted in his other self and blaming himself for things that were not his fault. His parents' reaction to the flashbacks would not be much better; he would probably never see the light of day again. The flashbacks were vastly different in comparison to his dreams; they felt like a hot knife in his brain, torturing agony that left him panicked and disturbed.

Chris bundled several thistles together and cleared his throat quietly. The spell had been a long shot, but if there was anyone out there who could explain what was going on, he would try anything.

"_Power of the witches rise, _

_Course unseen across the skies_

_Seeking guidance, seeking grace_

_Bring a saviour through time and space."_

A gust of wind burst from nowhere; pages of Chris' notebook flipped wildly as the scrying crystal on his bedside table flew through the air and burned into the map of San Francisco. The scent of melted plastic filled the small room and Chris choked back a curse. The spell was supposed to bring someone to him, not find him some random stranger. The teenager rose to his feet and curiously removed the scrying crystal. It glowed blue in his palm, magic spilling into the core. The melted portion of the map had been completely destroyed, prompting Chris to consult another map in order to figure out where he was being directed. It had taken him a long time to work it out, but if magic was directing you somewhere, the best thing to do was go after it.

"Spike's Bar," he mumbled to himself as he let the map drop onto his bed.

A bar? That was magic's huge plan? He needed a guide to work out what the hell was going on with his body and mind and past self and he was being sent to a _bar? _He had his doubts about this one…

A spike of agony smashed into his skull and he gripped his head, the pain overtaking his whole body. A memory forced its way into it brain, the white hot needle inching through his brain as pictures flashed before his closed lids. As he lay on the floor, gasping and choking and waiting for the pain to recede, he made his decision.

* * *

Orbs swirled together outside Spike's bar, the teenager straightening his leather jacket and heading for the door. It opened with a low growl of the hinges and a scrape against the floor, but nobody looked air was thick with smoke and sweat, the overpowering smell of alcohol had soaked into ever crevice of the bar. Burly men were gathered around a pool table, large sums of money stacked on a nearby table. A few girls lingered on barstools, swirling small umbrellas in the fruity cocktails. Though it would be a lie if he said he had never been in a bar like this, he normally frequented demon bars. It was somewhat reassuring to know that nobody in this bar was going to suddenly turn on him and try and steal his powers.

Chris tried to blend in as he made his way through the dingy room. The lighting was bad, but that was to be expected. Nobody came to these places expecting a five star suite. Chris craned his neck to see around the room, his gaze finally landing on the bar where the women had gathered. It would have been a normal occurrence, had Chris not locked eyes with someone already watching him. She looked about his age, though there was a lot of distance between them. There was no denying it, however; she was looking right at him. Self-conscious, Chris tore his eyes away and wandered around. He didn't know why the crystal had brought him here, but all he could really do was sit and wait for something to happen.

A large, yellow sign was thumbtacked to a door, words bolded and clear.

**EMPLOYEES ONLY. KEEP OUT.**

The only thing the door would lead to would be the back alleyway, but given the Halliwell track record with alleys, he assumed it would be his best bet. With several furtive glances at his surroundings, Chris ducked out the back door.

The air outside was not as choking, though it could hardly be considered "fresh". Chris closed the door behind him and kicked a squashed beer can across the ground. It was decidedly chilly; he noted as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and chased the can, kicking it again.

"Come on," he mumbled to himself, "Magic always does something. Whatever you brought me here for, do it…"

"Hey!"

Chris whipped his head around, clearly startled by the sudden voice. It was the bartender who had been watching him earlier, two large bags of garbage clutched in her hands. Chris offered her a weak smile that she didn't return.

"Employees only back here. Can't you read?" She said as she tossed both bags into the dumpster. Now in the floodlights of the alley, Chris could tell she was his age, if not younger. He chose not to question how she scored the job in favour of taking in her appearance. He wasn't sure he liked the way she had been eying him inside, but if she was a demon she would have attacked already.

Her hair was dark brown and straightened, just grazing the bottom of her shoulder blades; her eyes were light blue and several freckles dotted her cheeks and nose. The blue jeans and black shirt were nothing telling, all of the employees had been wearing them. He was too far to read the nametag pinned to her chest but she began speaking, breaking him from his riviere.

"Look, I don't care if you're back here but if my boss catches you, it's going to be my ass so if you could just leave, then-"

"Why were you watching me in there?"

The girl looked affronted and folded her arms over her chest, almost contemplating whether or not she should supply him with an answer.

"…I thought I knew you for a second," she said finally, brushing his question off with a casual shrug, "But we've never met, have we?"

Chris shrugged and offered her his most dazzling smile. He might not have much on Mister Twice Blessed Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, but he could wiggle his way in or out of most situations. "I'm sure I'd remember you."

The girl laughed and cocked one eyebrow, "Very smooth. It doesn't change the fact that you _are _in a restricted area and you _will _need to get out."

Chris continued smiling and propped himself against the wall of the alley. If she worked here, maybe she could help him find the guide he was looking for. Magic worked in mysterious ways, but it always worked. He was meant to find something here tonight. Something important.

"Does anything… weird ever happen around here?"

"Weird" was his best way to describe it for the moment. It wasn't as though you could go around asking people if they were witches or knew about Magic. Most of the time he was recognised just because he was a Halliwell, but that never stopped the occasional witch from noticing him. The bartender's eyebrow climbed higher.

"Define weird. This is a bar."

The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled and adrenaline spilled into his body as the air rippled in front of him. Six foot seven and tan-skinned, the demon snarled menacingly and bared four sets of teeth. Chris was lucky enough to dodge the energy ball, but let his eyes drift to the girl. This would be the ultimate way to tell if she was a witch or not.

Eyes wide and mouth open, the girl staggered back in terror as the demon turned on her. Chris' stomach tightened with sickening realisation. Not a witch. Defenseless. Chris threw out his hand without thinking, the demon flying back to collide with another large dumpster.

_Vanquishing spell would be good now!_

Chris had spent hours studying the Book since he was allowed to read it, but this demon was nothing he had ever seen before. Chris wasn't too panicked, however. Wyatt might have been the master of powers, but Chris could whip up a kickass potion and spell on the fly better than Wyatt could even dream.

"_Beast of death and beast of hell, _

_The bloodlust that he longs to quell,_

_Remove this beast from swelling place, _

_Vanquish him from time and space."_

Fire erupted around the demon's body, the flames licking at his skin until it melted away into nothingness. Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he turned around, only the rustle of garbage bags jolting his attention. The bartender had backed into a corner, her eyes firmly locked on Chris.

Chris gasped as the crystal in his palm grew white hot and fell to the ground. The brunette paid him no mind, still slumped against the wall in complete shock and terror of what she had just witnessed. Unsure what had caused the crystal's reaction; Chris kneeled down to study it. The crystal emitted a soft, effervescent light that pulsed and danced through the once translucent object. As Chris reached out to grasp it, it rolled from his touch until it stopped at the girl's feet, now glowing brighter than it ever had.

Nursing his hand, Chris eyed the girl with a mixture of curiosity and confusion; this was her? The girl who had the answers to all of his questions? She could help him? She wasn't even a witch. He stepped forward and she skittered back, one hand raised.

"Get… away from me."

Chris rubbed his brow and raised both his hands in a sign of truce, letting her know he had no weapons and would not hurt her. He realised, belatedly, that she had just watched him throw a demon into a wall with his hands and raising them maybe wasn't the best idea. If he didn't talk to her it risked exposure, but right now he doubted she wanted to be anywhere near him. Chris offered her a tense smile and lowered his hands.

"I'm Chris. Chris Halliwell. I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl pressed to the wall didn't relax her posture, though it was not as though Chris could truly blame her. He squinted at the nametag and stepped a little closer.

"Charlotte? That's your name, right?"

She nodded, not seeing the harm in revealing as much. It took several deep breaths, but she regained her voice.

"Charlotte Perry."

**A/N- I know what you're asking. Why am I not working on ED? The short answer is- I am. The long answer is that it is the last chapter and it's taking a lot more work than I anticipated to wrap up the story without it seeming abrupt. Yes, I will be doing the sequel to ED but this came to mind today and I churned it out and I've done about 3 chapters of it so I thought I'd see how it goes over. **


	2. Charlotte

Perry? That had to be more than coincidence. In all of his life, he had been quick to pick up the fact that nothing was coincidental. And this woman having the same last name as he did when he showed up in the future? That was ringing a lot of bells. She seemed shaken, though that was hardly unexpected. Chris rubbed the back of his neck and sucked in a breath between his teeth. There was going to be a lot of explaining to do here.

"Charlie?"

Chris was thrown off his feet and into a pile of garbage bags that cushioned his fall. Charlotte tucked her hands behind her back in what she hoped was the most innocent pose she could muster. The backdoor had opened; a tall, broad shouldered man was now staring into the alleyway. Charlotte smiled and kicked one of the bags casually.

"Just taking out the trash. Got a bit distracted."

The man didn't seem convinced, the cock of his eyebrow and the lean of his shoulder making it clear he expected a better excuse than that. Charlotte mimicked his position casually and checked her watch.

"I'm off in twenty. Uncle Mark said to close up early tonight, it's Friday the 13th, and you know how suspicious he gets. Make the last round call, I… I think I dropped one of my rings."

The other bartender's eyebrows climbed higher into his hairline but he disappeared without any other words. Charlotte crouched down to Chris' level, keeping her voice low.

"Look, I've had a rough day without the added stress of whatever the hell is going on here so you're going to get one hour to explain to me everything you want, starting with why you came here for me and what the hell that thing was. Give me a half hour and go up the staircase in the building next door to the third level, apartment 3C. If I don't answer, I have changed my mind and you can leave and never come back."

Chris, who had been expecting far more of a fight from her, nodded obediently. If she was going to give him a chance, he'd take it. He clambered out of the multitude of trash bags and dusted himself off, casting a look over his shoulder at the girl.

"Not to push my luck, but you just witnessed something really weird. Why are you trusting me?"

Charlotte frowned and took a few steps back before shrugging and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"…I always believed in magic. I'm assuming that's what it was. Maybe I'm hoping this is all just a really bad migraine induced hallucination? But I…" she stopped for a moment and her face softened as she looked into his eyes, "I feel… like I know you somehow."

That was a good thing, Chris decided internally. If she felt like she knew him, which meant there was some chance that she really could help him. Charlotte headed for the door and pulled it open, stopping midway and looking over at Chris again.

"And to answer your question, no; weird things never happen here. At least they didn't use to."

The door closed behind her with a low groan and Chris stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. When he had brought this jacket home, his mother had shattered one of her favourite crystal glasses. Apparently his previous timeline past had owned the exact jacket in their timeline. He had offered to return it, but Piper had insisted he keep it. Paige had said something about "parallel universe fashion attraction" and told him to steer clear of those god awful colours. He hadn't gotten the joke, but his mother had laughed and forgotten the incident, which he was thankful for.

Thirty minutes. Apartment 3C.

He could do this. He had to. One hand reached up to press hard against his temple where a low throb was beginning to awaken. He couldn't go on like this; something was wrong with his head and he needed to know what.

**XxX**

Charlotte finished her shift pouring final rounds to the various regulars at the bar, her hands shaking over every glass. By the time she was off work, she had run every possible scenario in her head at least five times; but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she knew the mysterious guy who had lingered in the alleyway. Her eyes found the clock as she seized her black leather jacket from behind the bar and closed the door behind her, heading up the staircase to her apartment. Nobody was there yet, which she was thankful for.

The door swung open and she pocketed her key, discarding her purse and shrugging off her jacket onto the battered black couch. The apartment was how she had left it, somewhat messy but enough to look homely as opposed to a bomb heap. Charlotte pulled her work shirt over her head and dropped it into the laundry basket before rummaging for another one, a simple white button down. She shimmied out of her jeans, knowing she smelled like second hand smoke and liquor as she jumped into a newer pair. She'd change into her pajamas as soon as this Chris guy had left, but for now she assumed she might want to make an impression.

Charlotte left her room and pulled her hair back into a messy bun; obsessively straightening things as she paced around the apartment. She wanted to say that there was a nagging suspicion in her stomach; that she knew inviting a strange man up to her apartment was a bad idea and she had lost her mind, but something about him… her stomach flipped and the overwhelming sense of déjà vu overtook her. She knew him from somewhere and it was killing her not to be able to place it.

"Charlotte?"

The girl looked up to see the front door open, just as she had left it. Chris was in the doorframe, one hand raised to brush his knuckles across the door. Charlotte beckoned him with two fingers and gestured to the couch, not sitting down with him.

"One hour. Go."

Chris took a deep breath before launching into his explanation. It wasn't as though he hadn't explained magic before; quite the opposite. Almost every day he was coming across someone who didn't know about magic, but this was different. This girl was supposed to help him; so she needed to know everything. He'd had enough time to sort out what he wanted to tell her and what she should know. He figured Magic Basics was a definite necessity, as was how he found her and why he needed her. The whole story spilled from his lips; magic, Melinda Warren, Charmed Ones, Elder, whitelighter, Twice Blessed, past self; things he hadn't told anyone before. By the time he finished, the look on Charlotte's face made it seem like she was about to have him institutionalised. Chris sucked in a breath, shocked at how quickly he had managed to spill all of that out. Charlotte opened her mouth but stayed silent as she sank down to sit on the black coffee table in front of Chris.

"So… run that by me again?"

"Which bit?"

"The bit about me. You're here because your little crystal thing brought you here?"

Chris leaned forward and laced his fingers together, trying to decide how to phrase it, "This world we live in, it wasn't like this. Like I said, when my brother was younger, a demon was after him to turn him evil, or at least that was what I thought. Turns out it was an Elder gone wrong but that's a whole other story. In the unchanged future, I came back to the past and changed it so the world would be better. I started having these dreams about it and my parents told me everything. But there was something different as well. Sometimes… I have these flashbacks. They are awful and painful and it feels like something is trying to claw its way out of my head. I wanted to know what it was, so I cast a spell to bring me a guide. And found you. No matter what this whole thing is, Charlotte, I was brought to you by magic."

Charlotte shook her head slowly in disbelief, unsure how to process all of the information. "But… why me? I mean, I'm not a witch- to my knowledge. My parents weren't. My mother's a teacher and my dad is a baker. Not exactly kickass material there. _How _am I supposed to help you?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders, hating that he had no way of knowing anything. He was as lost as she was. Charlotte rose from the table and rubbed one hand hard across her forehead as she began pacing around the room.

"Okay. Let's hypothetically say that I could help you. What exactly is it that you want me to do? Find out why your head wants to explode?"

Chris reached into his backpack and removed a small, leather bound book, "This was my past selves' notebook. I figured maybe you could read it and see if there is anything I missed. I know you're confused, but…"

He stood up and took her shoulders gently in the hope it would stop her pacing, "Magic brought me to you. Magic might not always do what you _want _it to, but it will always do what you _need _it to. You can help me… we just need to work out how."

Charlotte stared into Chris' eyes, the tug of familiarity in her stomach making her sigh. Chris let his hands drop to her forearms and he tried to come up with something that would be beneficial for the both of them.

"Look… what if I told you I could find out if you were a witch? Give me one chance and then you can decide. Meet me tomorrow outside your apartment building and I can take you somewhere and then we can find out if you're a witch. That gives you tonight to sleep on it and then maybe I can help you, even if you don't help me."

Charlotte looked down at the soft grip he had on her arms and sighed softly, "…Okay."

Chris cheered internally, not believing his luck. He let her go and reached down to grab his things, "Tomorrow. Nine o'clock."

Charlotte nodded and folded her arms over her chest before walking with him to the door. As Chris began walking away, she called after him.

"Thanks."

Chris frowned and turned around in confusion, "For what?"

Charlotte shrugged casually as she leaned in the doorway, "For saving the world. That's what you did, right? I suppose… maybe I should repay you for that. God knows what my fate was in your future."

Chris smiled and chuckled softly, offering her a nod, "In that case, you're welcome."

He waited until the door had closed, the letters 3C glimmering in the dim hallway light before he looked left and right and orbed away.

**XxX**

Chris' original plan had been to stay up until 9am, but as soon as his head hit the pillow; he was out like a light. Pictures swam before his eyes, a blur of faces and landscapes.

_Chris opened his eyes and found himself in the familiar building of The Resistance. The wallpaper was peeling and the lights were dim, swallowing the room in a depressing glow. _

_ "I need to find something; there has to be a way to change this."_

_ "There isn't," _

_Bianca came into view, dressed only in one of Chris' button down shirts. Her long hair swung forward and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There's nothing we can do, Chris."_

_The brunet grit his teeth and stood up, untangling himself from his girlfriend's arms. There had to be something. There had to be a way. He couldn't live like this; he couldn't watch people live like this. His hands trembled and he slammed the leather bound journal onto the desk._

"_I'm going to find a way, Bianca. I mean it."_

He jerked awake and rolled under his covers as sunlight blinded his vision. The clock by his bed told him he still had an hour before he needed to meet Charlotte. He stood under the hot water of the shower for longer than he intended, mulling over his latest dream and his new discoveries. There was so much to try and get his head around and all he had was that stupid notebook to tell him anything. He had no idea how things would turn out today, but he was trying to be optimistic.

Chris breezed down the stairs, leaping over the final four and landing with ease as he headed into the kitchen and snagged an apple between his fingertips, tossing it into the air before sinking his teeth into the juicy red flesh. Piper raised an eyebrow from her position at the stovetop and placed her wooden spoon down before wiping her hands on the white apron adorning her waist.

"In a hurry?"

Chris devoured the rest of the apple and tossed the core into the trashcan, "Library. Feel like some new material."

"Nerd."

Chris ducked as Wyatt's hand came out of nowhere to playfully clap his brother around the back of the head. The blond reached for two apples and a granola bar and slid into one of the seats, screwing up his nose when his mother ruffled his hair.

"Be home by dinner," Piper reminded him, one eyebrow raised, "do not make me come get you."

Chris held up both hands in surrender before shrugging on his jacket and heading out the front door. The house was in walking distance of the library, so his mother would worry if he didn't take his car. Chris ducked down beside the house and orbed away, hoping Charlotte hadn't changed her mind.

Charlotte was already outside her apartment, dressed in a pair of blue shorts and a white tank top. She'd pulled her long hair back into a ponytail and was chewing on her bottom lip when Chris tapped her on the shoulder. She squeaked and turned around, though Chris caught the defensive hand that tried to smash across his face. Charlotte relaxed when she caught sight of the smirking face behind her and she sighed, lowering her hands and folding them over her chest.

"So?"

"So we'll go buy ingredients and then come back here and I will be able to tell you if you are a witch or not… and then you can decide whether or not you're going to help me."

Charlotte nodded and cocked one hip, "How did you get here? Are we taking your car?"

Chris smiled and looked on either side of himself before gently pulling her into the same alley he had walked out of, much to her protest. He settled his hands on her forearms.

"Remember how I explained the orbing thing? It's pretty much how I normally get around. And it's faster, so I figure we could use it today, it's just… I need to hold you."

Wow, that sounded so much less like a pickup line in his head. Charlotte seemed to pick up on the words as well, but suppressed her smile in favour of a sarcastic eye roll as she took his hands from her forearms and let them rest on her waist. Chris breathed a sigh of relief that she thought nothing of his words and let the orbs take them away.

Sparkling orbs burst into view in a secluded alleyway, Chris's grip on Charlotte loosening as she fell back against the brick walls with a low groan. She bent over and held a hand to her stomach, face paler and green tinged.

"That's orbing?" she murmured, looking up at him, "That's awful."

Chris grimaced and helped her up, "Sorry. I forgot about first-time orbers. It gets easier."

The door to Maggie's Mystical Magicks swung open with the usual creak and groan. The store was shrouded in darkness and the musty smell of old tomes and bottled ingredients. Admittedly, the best seller here was the crystal balls, but if you were a witch and you knew what you were looking for, there was nothing better than Maggie's. Charlotte crept several steps behind Chris at all times, still in awe of the situation. Her back met a cold counter and a sudden hiss and yowl made her jump. The black cat darted between her legs and took off into the back of the store, leaving Charlotte to clutch her chest in surprise. Chris smiled from behind the dried newt section and began selecting bottles.

Charlotte caught up and eyed off the various labels. Wanting to fill the dead air, she began throwing out casual questions about what she had learned so far.

"So your brother is…"

"The Twice Blessed." Chris supplied as he perused the shelves. Charlotte nodded her head slowly, eyes squinted.

"And he's Twice Blessed because your parents are…"

"A Charmed One and a whitelighter."

Charlotte prodded a glass jar with several amphibians crammed into it, their eyes bulging in the murky water. She pulled a face and turned, gasping when she found Chris right in front of her. The witchlighter laughed and Charlotte scrunched her nose.

"But that wasn't allowed? But it is now. Because of them?"

"Yep."

Chris reached past Charlotte's head and seized the packet of dried herbs he had been rooting for. The girl blinked and continued trying to process everything. It was a lot of information to learn you were a witch, but she had shoved that thought to the back of her mind in favour of exploring the intricacies of Chris Halliwell's life.

"And the Charmed Ones were some kind of power made by Melinda Warren?"

"You're picking this up pretty quick."

Charlotte experimentally squeezed a gel-like substance encased in plastic and awkwardly placed it on the shelf when it offered a low groan in her direction.

"It's interesting. So, not to be rude or anything but what are you?"

Chris frowned and dumped the items onto the counter and waited for Maggie to return from the back room. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, your mother is magical super witch and your dad was awesome elder guy so what sort of title do you have? Are you "Mr Second Twice Blessed?" or something?"

Chris chuckled and added a few more items to the bundle, "No. I'm just Chris. I can orb and I have telekinesis."

Charlotte cocked her head and smiled, "Well, that's still pretty awesome, and you're way ahead of me in that whole power area thing, if I even am a witch."

"I'm pretty sure you are," Chris reasoned. He'd be lying if he didn't admit that the thought had crossed his mind many times. His best theory at the moment was that Charlotte was having the same problem as his Aunt Paige. Late into discovering her magic and the magical world, but still capable. The potion would tell him if she was a witch for sure, though. And then they could hopefully move on from there. Maggie bustled in and grinned when she saw Chris. He and his family were regulars in the store, and Maggie was witch herself.

"Christopher, it's been so long. How have you been?"

Chris pulled out his wallet as Maggie rung up the items, hoping he could get in and out as fast as possible. As he handed over the money, he saw Maggie looking over in Charlotte's direction before raising an eyebrow.

"My, Christopher… who is your lady friend?"

Charlotte looked up with wide eyes and shook her head vehemently, "Uh, no. Charlotte. Just a friend. Not a _lady friend."_

Maggie nodded and tipped Chris a wink as she bundled up his items in a plastic bag, "Lovely to see you again, make sure you drop by sometime soon. Lovely to meet you Charlotte."

The two disappeared out the door and Chris groaned to himself. He'd been hoping to keep this whole thing to himself until he had worked out what was going on, but if he kept frequenting his usual spots, people were going to ask questions. That was the hazard of being friends with all the magical beings around town because your mother had saved them at one point or another. Charlotte was looking up and down the street and squinting into the distance.

"So what now?"

"Well, I mix this together and we find out what's going on," Chris said, suddenly realising that he hadn't really thought to much ahead in this whole thing. He pulled Charlotte into a small alcove and offered out his hands.

"Is your apartment okay? I'm… not wanting my parents to know what I'm doing."

Charlotte raised a sceptical eyebrow but didn't ask any further questions, which Chris was thankful for. Her small hands settled into his and they orbed away, Charlotte's queasy groan the last thing he heard before the blue lights and chimes surrounded him.

**XxX**

"So this will tell you if I'm a witch?"

Chris measured out the ingredients and dumped them into the plastic bowl. He knew taking things out of the manor would be way too suspicious, so he had made do with what he could find around Charlotte's apartment. The girl in question was sitting on the kitchen bench, legs dangling in the air as she watched his every move with a mixture of fascination and suspiciousness. He didn't blame her; he was as questionable of the circumstances as he was. She had the added bonus of not even knowing about witchcraft and wiccan culture.

Magic worked in mysterious ways, but it always worked. Something had brought him here and he wasn't leaving until he had served his purpose. Chris ground the peppers together and emptied them into the bowl, along with half a cup of rosemary water.

"It should. I mean, you have a familiar which are only for budding witches. I don't understand why you've never shown any kind of powers. Did your parents ever tell you anything?"

Charlotte shook her head and shrugged one shoulder, "Never. And we never had any of _this _stuff lying around so I assume it's not an active kind of gene or whatever. You really think I might have powers?"

Chris formed a paste with the concoction and spooned it out as he checked the consistency. "I guess I've never heard of a witch without them. They might not be active yet; my Aunt Paige didn't use her powers until she met her sisters. Well, she did once but that was a different circumstance. Either way, my spell brought me to you for a reason. And sorry, but I'm not going anywhere until I find out why."

The witchlighter caught some of the paste between his thumb and forefinger before gesturing Charlotte closer. She seemed hesitant, but slowly made her way to stand before him.

"Open your mouth."

The cock of Charlotte's eyebrow made it clear that she didn't like where this was going, though it did not stop her from parting her lips obediently.

"Stick out your tongue."

The eyebrow climbed higher, this time combined with a look that clearly portrayed "if you're screwing me around, you will die slow and painful." Chris smiled and gently dabbed the paste onto Charlotte's tongue and stepped back. He hoped this would work; it wasn't as though this was something from the Book. Charlotte closed her mouth and waited. She was at least thankful that the paste didn't taste awful. A warm tingle rippled through her spine and she shivered as a light glow began to radiate from her skin. After several moments, Charlotte glowed as though she had been dipped in saffron. Chris grinned and waited for the glow to fade before he spoke, unable to hide the touch of pride in his voice.

"Yeah… you're a witch. It's unused, but it's there."

Charlotte blinked and rested to the hard plastic bench in her kitchen. This was too much information today.

"But-"

She stopped speaking abruptly and muttered to herself. Chris tidied the bench awkwardly, now unsure what to do with his hands. To be honest, he had no idea where to even progress from here. So Charlotte was a witch, but she had no idea about her powers or her place in the "Past Chris" puzzle. How was she supposed to help him? Why was her last name Perry?

"Do I have powers?"

Chris looked up at Charlotte, who was now twisting the silver ring on her pinkie finger. He shrugged and began packing away his ingredients, "I would assume so. I've never met a witch without them, but that's also a possibility. You might be a passive witch?"

"Well that's not any fun," Charlotte mumbled to herself. Chris chuckled lightly before he looked her over seriously. He'd come here for a reason, and he really needed it resolved.

"Look, I hate to put you on the spot, but I was brought to you by magic. You… have to be able to help me somehow. I won't force you or anything, but if you're going to work with me, I'd like to know."

Charlotte laughed humourlessly and offered Chris a forced smile, "You do this often? Drop into girls' lives, sweep them away from demons, unveil your secret world and their witchy genetics and then get them to help you?"

Chris chuckled and shook his head, "No, you'd be the first."

There was a long period of silence, longer than Chris could bear before Charlotte pushed back her hair and looked at him closely.

"Can I just have some time?" she said softly, looking down at the leather bound book in her hands, "Alone. I'll tell you what I decide but can I have some time to… digest?"

Part of Chris wanted to scream that he needed her now before his head got any worse, but he knew that he couldn't do that to her. Sure, he had been born into this life and it was something he took for granted every day. Charlotte had, just like his mother and aunts, become a witch overnight. He had no idea what that could even be like. Stuffing down his protests, Chris nodded.

"Of course, take as much time as you need."

**XxX**

He didn't hear from her for three days; the time seemingly standing still in that short period. Magic had drawn him to her, if she said no…

"…_Chris."_

The boy in question looked up from his breakfast and leaned backwards, "Yeah?"

Piper bustled into the kitchen, one hand holding her hair back while another rooted around in a drawer.

"What's wrong, peanut?"

"Did you call me?"

Piper made a face and produced a hairclip, immediately flipping it into her hair and reaching for her purse, "Nope, you must be going crazy," she teased lovingly, "your dad is at work and Wyatt's in class. But I'm late for work, I will see you tonight."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, a pink lip mark planting stickily to his forehead, much to his chagrin.

"_Chris…"_

It wasn't until his mother had bid him goodbye and was halfway down the stairs of the manor that he realised what was happening. He'd explained the whole "calling" process to Charlotte and she must be trying it out. His heart leapt and he stuffed the two remaining pancakes into his mouth and jumped from his chair, washing the fluffy goodness down with the glass of orange juice beside his plate.

Chris orbed into the apartment building and stepped up to the door. He and Charlotte were not on any kind of level where he would orb into her apartment, invited or not. His knuckles rapped on the door and it swung open under his hand, exposing the room. The bedroom door across the hall was open and Chris could see Charlotte perched on the edge of her bed, eyes cast down on her lap. She looked up at the sound of the creaking door and beckoned Chris in.

She looked sad. That was never a good sign. He had no idea what he would do if she turned him down. He situate himself half in the doorway and half in her room, feeling awkward that she was so openly inviting him into her personal space.

"I had a dream," she announced, clearly wanting to get it off her chest, "I don't know how to explain it but you were there and it felt real and I… I know you. I've had that dream before, so many times and I never saw the guy's face. But I think it was you. Every time I try and remember details, they slip away but… the orbing, the potions, that goddamn leather jacket," she gestured her hand to him, "It was you. I think that's why I felt like I knew you, but how did you end up in my dreams when I never even knew you?"

Chris shrugged, nonchalantly trying to play off his suddenly nagging curiosity. Witch dreams were signs, though often ones layered in subtext and disguise. If she had been dreaming about him, he had no doubts now that she was the one who could help him.

Charlotte ran her fingers over the notebook and nodded to herself, "I'll help you. I don't know how I can, but I will."

Chris' heart soared.

"On one condition."

It plummeted to the ground as Charlotte set the book down and rapped the cover with her red nails, "I want you to help me with whatever this… witch thing is."

Chris made a face and sat awkwardly on the bed beside her. It dipped under his weight and he shrugged one shoulder as he began to speak.

"I want to, I really do. But I don't know how. I was just… gifted. It came with the job. I don't know how to help you."

"But you're a whitelighter," Charlotte argued, making no move to hide her disappointment.

"_Half _whitelighter," Chris corrected her as he stood up and moved to stand in front of her, "I don't know how to harness all that stuff. But I can try? I guess?"

There was no way in hell he was letting this opportunity slip out of his fingers, and if that meant trying to guide a new witch, so be it. Charlotte's lips curled into a slow smile and she rose from the bed to offer out a hand.

"Deal."

**XxX**

When a stone is tossed in a pool of water, the single splash can cause dozens of ripples as the water is disturbed from its peaceful state. One small action causes an effect that influences everything around it.

Across magical planes, a figure slumped over a stone table; the slow rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he was alive. Torches burned low in their sockets, yet never extinguished. Not here. The sudden scurry of footsteps did not rouse the immobile figure, nor did the presence of two men in the small room.

"M'Lord…. He has found her."

Broad shoulders stiffed as the figure raised his head, blood mattered hair falling back to reveal wearied eyes and scarred features. A slow smirked formed on cracked lips as the figure slowly stood to his feet.

"…Interesting."

**A/N: Thanks to the reviewers and people who took the time to read this story. I have had this idea for a while and I'm excited to get it onto the page finally. I'm working on the final chapter of my other multichapter which has been my baby for years plus a few university subjects, but I'll try and update as soon as possible. **


	3. Beginning

Charlotte let go of Chris' hand and smiled, "So… where exactly should we start?"

Chris looked down at the journal and flipped it open to the first page, "Have you read it?"

"I started. It's a huge journal, but it looks so small. I looked at the dates; you have five years of entries in here. I did read a few pages and just from what is being written, the future the way it used to be was…"

She recalled the first lines of the journal. Out of curiosity, she had flipped open the book and glanced down at the slanted scrawl on the page. Her heart had skipped painfully when she read the first line.

'_My name is Christopher Halliwell and my brother has killed my entire family. He succumbed to evil and he has taken over the magical community, and he has plans to take over the world, and I know he can do it.'_

She had skimmed through the journal to try and gain a general idea of things. Chris's past self had kept a thorough record of every detail as it happened. She stepped out into the living room and made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and looking over her shoulder at Chris.

"Water?"

He politely declined but sank into the sofa, trying to decide where they should begin. It had occurred to him that they actually had no beginning point; his guide had only just learned she was a witch and that even he did not know all of the details about his past life. So far, things were going fabulously.

Charlotte slid into the single couch beside Chris and curled her legs up, watching him quietly as her teeth caught her bottom lip.

"So... is it weird? I mean, only getting snippets of your past in your dreams and journal? Don't you just want to _know?"_

Chris laughed and nodded, "God, you have no idea. I wish I could just cast a spell and have all of my memories put back, but that's not how it works. I've already tried. But they're coming back little by little; I just hope one day I can know everything."

He fell silent, wanting to ask Charlotte a question before anything went further.

"Charlotte? Your last name… Perry….When I came to my parents, I told them my name was Chris Perry, and your name is Charlotte Perry and I've never believed in coincidence so-"

"So you think somehow there may be a connection?"

Chris shrugged offhandedly, "I'm not sure what to think. I mean, my parents gave me the middle name Perry because of that, but what if during my time in the past I…"

Charlotte snorted and tried to suppress a giggle, "Got somebody knocked up and your past self is my father? Are you sure you haven't been inhaling potion fumes?"

Chris frowned and rolled his eyes, "Look, it was a theory that crossed my mind, okay? Perry and Perry? How is that not weird?"

"Well if it settles your mind, I highly doubt that you somehow impregnated my mother. My dad's last name is Perry and I was the first girl born in eight generations of his family. I'm also the spitting image of my grandmother on his side. I really think this whole name thing is a coincidence. Besides, maybe Perry was your middle name and you just used it because it was easier? And my mother's never been to San Francisco anyway, she's lived in Salem her whole life."

Chris raised an eyebrow as he looked up and Charlotte laughed and smiled, "Yeah, I was born and raised in Salem, Massachusetts. I now understand how weird that is. Though it was the history there that made me so interested in magic and witches, so I guess it was a blessing?"

Chris smiled, his nerves suitably calmed by her admission. Though he still did not know how the two of them were at all connected, he at least had some peace of mind. Now the only thing weighing on his mind was how he planned to help her discover the powers she must have. He had an idea, but wasn't quite sure how to bring it up without sounding forward. He supposed, however, that he and Charlotte should be trying to get to know one another if they were going to be spending this time together, so he summoned his courage and began speaking.

"Charlotte?"

"You can call me Charlie, you know," she said, her nose still buried in Chris' journal before she looked up at him, "most people do."

"Well, Charlie… if I'm going to help you discover your powers and why you were chosen to be my guide… I need to know about you."

Charlotte looked up and tilted her head to the side slightly, one eyebrow raised. Chris elaborated as he shifted on the couch, "Well, I told you all about me and my past life and stuff, but without knowing some stuff about you, I can't really help…."

Charlotte shrugged and went back to the journal, though Chris saw her tense and her body language change dramatically, "Nothing to tell," she said casually, "Born, raised, awkward phase, high school, graduation, moved to San Francisco. I already told you… I'm not anything special."

Chris watched her carefully and Charlotte knew it. She bit the inside of her cheek before she looked up and sighed.

"Okay, look. Maybe I was a little weird as a kid, but nothing magical. I had weird dreams, I.. I experienced a hell of a lot of déjà vu. Sometimes… I felt like I'd known something before. Like premonitions, is that what you called them? But I never _saw _anything."

Chris nodded and took out a notebook, looking at her for permission before writing down the things she was saying. Charlotte turned her head to the side slightly and closed her eyes.

"When I was about four.. my parents had me seeing a psychologist. I wasn't "developing" right apparently. I didn't want to play with others, I kept to myself and I… had a wicked imagination. I drew whole universes, made up entire stories of worlds and people and places. Normally, it's chalked up to creativity, but I would scream myself hoarse about how it was real. I don't remember much of it, honestly, but I was seeing child psychologists for four years before I stopped talking about the things."

Chris kept writing, looking up at Charlotte with a sad smile, "Well, things like that are actually common in witch children. As a kid, we don't know how to control our powers and they manifest in a lot of ways. As we grow older, our body subconsciously learns how to properly control things. Maybe you're a Seer like my Aunt Phoebe."

Charlotte cocked one eyebrow and said nothing, gazing out of her window, "I still get it sometimes but I always chalked it up to myself seeing what I wanted to see or just a coincidence. I'd think the phone was about to ring and it would; I'd just… know things without knowing how I knew. I aced my history classes without ever studying for an exam. I could list off the entire timeline of the Roman, Greek and Egyptian histories without batting an eye. My mom just said I was gifted with a photographic memory but any other subject was brutal." She looked over at him, "Could being a Seer do that?"

Chris shrugged and copied down everything she was saying, "It's possible. I'll look into it. So you moved to San Francisco when?"

"After graduation. My uncle said he could get me a job as a bartender so I came from Salem."

"And what did your parents think?"

Charlotte stayed quiet and Chris looked up to find her staring out the window again, "Nothing." She said indifferently, "Next question."

Chris wanted to ask more, but he knew better than to pry so early in their friendship. If she felt threatened, she would leave and he knew it. Instead, he opted for a non-touchy subject.

"Well when is your birthday? I'm assuming we graduated at the same time?"

"I'll be nineteen in September."

Chris smiled and chuckled, "Me too. September 3rd. You?"

"Twenty-eighth. Five months to go."

There was a soft smile on her face and Chris took that to be a good thing, scribbling a few more notes before asking his next question.

"Do you dream about anything-"

Chris stopped and put a hand to his head as an explosion of pain rocked his whole body and stars burst behind his closed eyes. He cried out in agony and tried to suppress the pain by pressing both palms as hard to his temple as possible. He could hear Charlotte saying his name, but she faded out as a white-hot image began to burn his eyes.

_Wyatt's hand caught Chris' throat and lifted him into the air, squeezing mercilessly. Chris could feel the air being sucked away as his lungs began screaming and his flailing arms slowly lost their strength to fight. Wyatt smirked and squeezed harder._

"_I will love to watch you die, brother"_

Chris jerked out of the vision, head in agony and his whole body slumping forward. He did not hit the floor, surprisingly, instead finding himself slumped over something soft and sweetly-scented. A smooth hand rubbed his back before he opened one eye, the world bleary before everything came back into focus. He was slumped over Charlotte's shoulder, her arms wrapped tight around him and holding him to stop his face from connecting with the coffee table. He trembled slightly and tried to compose himself, but Charlotte held tight.

"Don't move. Just lean back, okay?"

Chris slowly leaned back against the chair and pressed two fingers to his forehead, the pain still blazing. Charlotte stood up and returned with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin, holding them out and trying to supress the tremble of her hand. Chris took them both gratefully and swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"That's what happens?" she said softly. "The pain and… you were screaming…"

Chris nodded and set down the water, "They're memories, I think. But when I dream about them, it's not so bad. No pain, no anything. But when I have these, I…" he trailed off, taking a long moment to find his voice, "Something isn't right. And you can apparently find out what."

Charlotte looked at the ground before she sat on the couch beside Chris and began twisting her hands together. They sat in silence for a long time until Chris could feel the pain lessen slightly. He had tried all kinds of medication for his pain, but none had taken it all away. He locked eyes with Charlotte and smiled weakly.

"Shall we continue?"

She gave him a dubious look and he looked back down, closing his eyes, "Charlie… we need to start work or we'll never get anywhere. Now if I don't get to know you, I can't help you. I've got a list of questions."

Charlotte looked like she wanted to protest, but sat quietly beside him as he began listing of his questions.

* * *

Chris orbed home much later, just in time to see his mother setting plate of food onto the table. After his discussions with Charlie he had determined that she would most likely have some kind of premonition power or anything else to do with visions. He would have to look it up in the Book. Other than that, he had found out a lot more about her. The both of them were fairly similar in many ways. The only subject he was not allowed to touch was things to do with her parents and he respected that. Charlotte had said she would read through his journal and make notes about anything she thought was important and they would meet up later in the week.

Wyatt was picking chunks of chicken from the bowl when his mother had her back turned, ducking when she reached out a hand to slap his away. A door hammered into the ground and Leo stepped out, slipping his teaching robes off and hanging them over the banister. His whitelighter powers had been reinstated when Chris had turned three, though now his only charges were the Charmed Ones and their extended family.

Chris pushed his way through dinner with a weary smile and tired eyes. The flashback today had taken a lot out of him, more than he had first realised. Chris swirled the food around on his plate, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in the back of his head. All he wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep, but he knew it wouldn't come tonight. Not easily.

He went straight to his room after dinner, brushing off his mother's worry by telling her was just in the mood for a good book and some music. He didn't know how long he could keep this from her, but it didn't mean he wouldn't make the most of the time he had.

* * *

Charlotte slid between the bedsheets and curled up tight, the light from her window spilling across the floor. Something about tonight was vastly different than any other night, for some reason. These past four days had been a rush, but now… outside in San Francisco, demons lurked everywhere, killing innocents and witches. God only knows what else was out there. Charlotte slid from the sheets and let her hand wrap around her cell phone, slowly dialling the familiar number and bringing the phone to her ear, the dial tone loud and monotonous until there was a low click and a burble of static.

"_Hello, you've reached Ken and Amy Perry. We can't come to the phone at the moment, but leave your name and number and we'll get back to you."_

The beep rang in her ears and she ended the call without saying a word, sliding back beneath the covers but keeping the phone clutched in her hand. The clock by her bed told her it was two thirty am, far too early for anyone she knew to be awake. Her hands trembled as she slowly typed out a message to the only person she could think of, though she expected no response.

_Charlotte: Everything feels different now. Is that weird?_

She slid her phone onto the bedside table and had settled back into her pillows when it lit up and buzzed in place. Charlotte picked it up, seeing the response and smiling softly.

**_Chris: No, it's not. _**

**_Charlotte: Did I wake you?_**

Chris looked down at his phone as the reply popped up on his screen. He had been perusing various texts in his bed, reading whitelighter accounts and journals of their guidance. The message from Charlotte had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.

**_Chris: No, I'm reading about how to try and help you with your powers. Why are you still awake?_**

**_Charlotte: There are demons everywhere. It's strange to think about. _**

**_Chris: Don't worry. It gets easier. _**

**_Charlotte: Do you promise?_**

She cursed herself as soon as she sent it. The last thing she wanted to come off as was a scared little girl. There was no immediate response as before and she sighed heavily, cursing her paranoia and stupidity. She had been about to set the phone down when it buzzed loudly, this time alerting her to an incoming call. She answered, her brow creased.

"Hello?"

"I promise."

Charlotte smiled and laughed softly, "You called just to promise?"

"I don't want you to be afraid, Charlotte. I'm sorry that you got tangled up in all of this, and I'm even sorrier that I don't have anything to tell you or know anything else. But trust me when I say that now you're under my protection and nothing is going to hurt you."

Chris had grown up without a fear of the dark. He wasn't afraid of monsters under his bed or the boogeyman in the closet. He had known since he was old enough to understand, that his powers would protect him. His family would protect him. If Charlotte had not been afraid, or worried, that would have confused him more than anything. She was alone in the city, coming into powers and having her entire life turned upside down in just a few days. He was surprised she had lasted this long. Especially with some of the things described in his journal; things that had made his own stomach churn.

"Chris? Why do you think I dream about you?"

Chris shifted the phone from one ear to the other and leaned into his pillows thoughtfully. He'd had time to consider the fact, though he had no proof to back up any of his theories. But she wasn't asking for proof, so he saw no harm in making a few stabs in the dark.

"Honestly? I have a million ideas, all of them a little crazier than the next one. It might be something to do with your powers? You could be having dream premonitions about meeting me? Premonitions are a passive power, so it makes sense that it wouldn't be as obvious. But I think it's something more than that…" he trailed off, unsure if he wanted to broach the subject with her just yet.

"Something like?" Charlotte prompted over the phone; Chris hearing a lilt in her voice that made him picture her smiling.

"Maybe we're connected somehow. Magically, I mean. I cast a spell to find a guide and it brought me to you. Maybe your dreams were preparing you for your meeting with me."

"Seems plausible," Charlotte agreed, "Do you think we were connected in the past as well? I mean the original future… thing… whatever."

"It's possible we were. That would also explain any potential connection we have. Really, I think if we can get you into your powers, you might have a better chance at figuring something out. For the time being, I guess we just hope something falls into our lap."

Charlotte let her fingertips stroke down the front cover of the journal and her voice was quiet when she asked her final question.

"Sorry if this is too forward, but… when you said you were nothing special that day in the magick shop… I think you're wrong. From what you've told me, you are certainly more than just Chris Halliwell."

Chris smiled to himself and he laughed. It had taken him a long time to feel like he could step out of Wyatt's shadow. He never understood why he was not as powerful, especially since his father had been an Elder during his conception. According to Leo, Wyatt being born on a special wiccan holiday above the Nexus to two powerful beings. He was in the right place at the right time. That hadn't made his thirteen year old self feel any better, but now he understood.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"…goodnight Charlie."

"…goodnight Chris."

The phone call ended and Charlotte smile to herself. It had been a long time since she had someone to talk to. She was never good at making friends, especially since coming to San Francisco. She took the journal and let it fall open in her lap, finding her place in it and beginning to read. She wanted to have all of it read by the end of the week, especially if she and Chris were going to start working.

* * *

_May 4__th__ 2023_

_Wyatt's powers have grown now. The more he takes over the magical community, the more power he gets to take over the real world. There's panic everywhere, war threats and SWAT teams, but Wyatt's too powerful. He kills anyone who gets in his way or uses his demonic army to do it. I've created s safe haven in an old building and disguised it with magic. Wyatt was never as good at spells as I was, so I have that on my side. I've been gathering people all year to try and fight Wyatt, or at least give them some kind of refuge. Mortals, creatures and witches are all under one roof but I never wanted it to happen this way. We call ourselves The Resistance and I just hope we can stay this way._

* * *

Charlotte swallowed hard and continued reading, the darkness outside her window fading to a pale light as hour passed her by. She was hunched under her covers, weary eyes trained on the journal in her hands but she could not look away.

* * *

_July 1__st__ 2024_

_As of today, the entire world is under the rule of Wyatt Matthew Halliwell. We lost seven more today in his attack. I don't know who betrayed us, but I have moved the entire base again. Bianca helped try to keep everyone calm, but I think she is starting to doubt our place. I have no idea what to do now, but if there is anything out there… I'm praying to it. I think we just need one more miracle._

* * *

Charlotte turned the page and picked up reading, but frowned as soon as she read the first few lines.

* * *

_July 31__st__ 2024_

_I truly think I have found my miracle. I know Bianca disagrees and thinks it will be a curse on us and we shouldn't trust anything, but nothing this good has happened since the war began. I'm holding out for this and I think I can write these words for the first time and actually mean them._

_**I think this could be the key to changing our lives.**_

* * *

Charlotte set the book down on her blanket and flipped the page backwards, wondering if there was something she had missed. Not one entry ago, Chris had been lamenting the loss of the world and now he was suddenly sure he had the key to changing it? Her fingers skimmed down the page and she sighed softly, wetting her lips before her finger brushed along something soft and barely there. She brought the book closer to inspect the feeling, her eyes widening when she saw it. There had been a page- or maybe more- ripped from the book. She frowned and flipped several pages ahead in the journal, letting her fingers slip down the centre fold of each page one by one. As her fingers grazed small jagged marks every several pages, her frown deepened. There was no way to tell how many pages had been torn from the book, how much information had been lost? Who would tear pages from the journal? What could they say that would be so bad?

Charlotte smothered a yawn with her hand and jumped when an incessant beeping broke the air. Her alarm clock sounded at six am and she shut it off, realising she had spent the entire night reading Chris's journal. She closed the book and set it on the bedside table, slowly letting herself sink down into the pillows. She would leave Chris a message to meet her so they could discuss the missing pages, but right now she needed sleep.

Who knows, maybe now that everything was up in the air- something could come to her in a dream?

* * *

There Charmed Ones' family had grown quite large in the past eighteen years since Chris was born. Paige and Henry had beautiful twin girls; Natalie and April, shortly after Chris' fifth birthday, before adopting their only son, Henry Junior when Chris turned six. Phoebe and Coop had married and added three bundles of joy to their family; Prudence, who was now fifteen and in her most rebellious stage yet; Patricia, a feisty ten-year-old who was determined to be just like her daddy when she grew up, with the newest addition, Lily, coming along only four years ago (much to the surprise of both her parents).

The families had separated to their own houses, had their own lives, but always made sure they never drifted too far. All of them had been enrolled in Magic School as well as attention regular schooling, though if the two ever clashed; it was always the real world that took precedence. The families had fortnightly dinners, rotating the home where it was held between the three families. Their lunches were only held once a month with a picnic in the park so everyone could get out into the fresh air.

Henry Junior and Wyatt were throwing a football around while Natalie and April chased butterflies across the fresh green grass. Prudence was slouched under a tree on her cell phone, ignoring her mother's calls for her to join the family with a roll of her eyes and a flick of her hair. Patty was following couples around the park under the watchful eye of her father, the young girl giggling at the intertwined hands as she skipped after the couples.

The rest of the family was sprawled on picnic blankets, Chris with his nose in a book; Piper nestled against Leo while Paige and Henry fed one another grapes. Phoebe was colouring with Lily, who had situated herself in the centre of the rug with her multitude of colouring books and crayons.

"So, one of my two favourite nephews," Paige began as she fed Henry a grape from the bunch in her hand, "Piper tells me you've been spending almost no time at home lately, hmm?" she grinned and Chris immediately knew where she was going with her words.

"Got a secret girlfriend we don't know about?"

Chris snorted and turned a page in his book, "Nope. Just spending time at the library."

Phoebe laughed and winked at her nephew, "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before. Hell, I've _used _that before."

Piper slapped Phoebe lightly and gave her son a soft glance, "You know, you've been spending a lot of time in the library lately though. Anything particular you're working on?"

Chris shrugged, "Reading the mortal's perspective of magic. I mean, I took a year from college to get in touch with my witch side and the unchanged future me. I want to make the most of it."

The decision had been a hard one, but he had the highest grades of his graduating class so he wasn't particularly worried about not going to college yet. His parents had been harder to sell on the idea, especially considering that Wyatt was already a second year into his journalism courses, but in the end they had decided he had the right to make his own choices.

Chris felt the gaze of his two aunts on him as his mother smile and he rolled his eyes, "There really is no girlfriend, okay? I'm not lying."

"What about the girl in Chris' cupboard?" Lily piped up from her place on the picnic rug, her chubby hand groping a blue crayon as she scribbled on a sheet of paper with enthusiasm.

All eyes turned on her in confusion before locking on Chris, who raised his hands in the air in surrender, "To my knowledge, there is no girl in my closet. I mean; a half-naked one in Wyatt's maybe-argh, Aunt Phoebe!"

"Do not say those things in front of my four-year-old!" Phoebe hissed before shuffling over to wrap her arm around Lily, pulling the long dark hair away from her daughter's shoulders, "What girl in Chris's cupboard, sweetheart?"

Lily set down her blue crayon and gripped a chocolate brown, "The one I saw in my head pictures."

The group went quiet, though Lily seemed to not notice. Phoebe's eyes widened and she squealed excitedly, though immediately calmed herself down and moved a little closer. Her two eldest daughters had inherited mostly their father's powers, though Patricia had touches of empathy now and then as an underdeveloped power.

"Sweetie, do you get these head pictures often?"

"Sometimes," Lily said softly, scribbling with the brown crayon before taking a black and red, "but not lots. But there's a girl in Chris' closet. She's afraid. She's hiding."

Chris frowned and shrugged when his mother cast him a worried glance, but Piper smiled sweetly at her niece, "Lily? Do you know if she's a friend? Or is she bad like some of the people your mommy and aunties deal with?"

Lily looked up and gave Piper a toothless grin, "She's special. But there's scary stuff coming and she's scared. I don't like this head picture very much."

Phoebe held Lily tight and Chris shifted closer on the rug, "Lily? What're you drawing?"

Lily set down the crayons and held up her masterpiece, "The closet girl."

Chris's stomach tightened when he saw the image she was displaying. The picture was crude, as a four-year-old's masterpieces sometimes were, but if this was the girl in his closet, he couldn't deny the resemblance to Charlotte. Phoebe looked up at other drawings and frowned, holding them all up.

"I drew her other places too. She works at a table with lots of bottles. And this is her and Chris."

Piper raised an eyebrow and Paige took a few of the pictures Lily had handed over, Chris's heart was pounding now and he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the situation.

"I don't know any girls like that, and not any that would be in my closet for any reason. Are you sure it's me, Lily?"

The girl nodded and resumed her drawing, talking as though she did not notice the gaze of her aunts, uncles and parents.

"You were the one who put her in the closet an' said she needed to stay there 'cause they were comin' to take her powers."

Huge brown eyes looked up at Chris and her lips wibbled a little, "You looked super scared too."

Chris leaned over and wrapped his arms around Lily, who clung to him and didn't let go. His aunts had gathered together and were talking in low voices, Chris catching snippets of the conversations. Words like 'demon' and 'Chris' were being tossed around and he had the sinking feeling that he was going to get a stern talking to at some point about not trusting anyone in the near future, especially a female with brown hair; that was if the lecture wasn't about any potential secrets he might be keeping.

In other words, it was going to be a very long few days.

The serious conversation broke up when Wyatt tossed a football at Chris' head and demanded that everyone "get up off their asses" (the final word had earned him a slap from Phoebe) "and come play some ball", spurring what would go down in the manor as the dirtiest, filthiest, most filled with cheating game of football ever held at a Halliwell family lunch.

Sneaking away from the game, Chris pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Charlotte's name. He tapped out a message, keeping it as short and simple as possible.

**_Chris: Need to see you ASAP. Tomorrow at your place? 12pm?_**

He pocketed his phone and sighed as he returned to the game, his mind reeling on the vision his youngest cousin had had. It was excellent that Lily was finally coming into her powers, but this did not bode well for him if her premonition was true. Why would Charlotte be hiding in his closet; what were her powers and why was someone coming for them?

It wasn't until he was wrapped up in his bed, curled in the warmth and trying to sleep that his phone lit up with a light buzz. He hadn't heard back from Charlotte all day, though it wasn't like he would have had the chance to respond. His mother had pulled him aside as soon as lunch was over and grilled him about who the girl might be. Chris had lied through his teeth, suggesting that maybe it was a future charge that the Elders were continuously suggesting he have (much to Chris' disagreement considering he could not yet heal.) After an hour and a half of Chris' solemn protests of innocence, Piper had given up with a soft kiss to his forehead and a ruffle of his hair. Chris's heart hurt to lie to his mother about something like that, but right now he needed to do this on his own. He looked down at the reply on the screen and smiled.

**_Charlotte: Sure. I have something for you as well._**

Chris was desperate to know what she had for him, but they had both agreed that any major discoveries should be discussed face-to-face. He curled up set his phone back on the desk before closing his eyes, hoping tonight he could dream uninterrupted.

* * *

Victor Bennet considered himself a fairly good grandparent. Admittedly, there had been many shortcomings in his fatherhood aspect, but he hoped that whatever he had lacked there, he had made up for with his beautiful grandchildren. Even Paige's son and daughters had taken a shine to him, which he had loved more than he had ever told her.

He would never admit it aloud and often found himself burdened by guilt by it… but he had a soft spot for Chris. Seeing the incarnation of his future grandson in the past had been a huge turning point, and Victor had wanted to make sure that he and Chris share the same strong bond they had in the unchanged future. He and Chris shared almost everything, and Victor took anything Chris said with the upmost secrecy unless it was a vital threat to the lives of someone else. There had been periods where Chris had been angered by his grandfather's betray of trust, but he always came to realise that Victor had done what he had done for the best. Chris had confided in him about everything from girls to magic.

Victor had found himself on the other side of San Francisco on a business lunch, trying to gain as many new clients for his office before he retired (which he was fairly sure everyone in his life was not-so-subtly pushing him into) and making new connections. He smoothed a hand over his slightly protruding stomach with a disappointed frown. Maybe the last plate of sashimi had been a bad idea, but sushi was his weakness- another thing his grandson had so kindly passed onto him. Victor tugged on his jacket to straighten it out and headed back to his car, stopping on the sidewalk when he caught sight of a very familiar face on the side of the road. He stepped out of the bustling crowd and squinted slightly, unsure why his grandson would even be on this side of San Francisco; but there was no denying it was Chris.

The teenager was slumped against the stairs of an apartment building walk-up; hands stuffed into the pockets of his faded blue jeans. He was wearing his favourite black shirt, the name of a band Victor didn't know splashed across the front and his leather jacket slung over his shoulders. His hair was, as usual, a flyaway mess that refused to lay flat against his head. Victor leaned against a post, hoping he blended into the crowd enough that his grandson would not notice him, though Chris seemed distracted enough. Just as he began to think that Chris was just here with Wyatt on an impromptu "let's not tell mom" demon hunt, the apartment building door opened and a young woman headed down the stairs. Victor's eyebrow raised when he saw Chris look up and smile, straightening as she stopped in front of him.

So there was a girl.

To his recollection, Chris hadn't mentioned a girl during their last lunch; that was certainly something Victor would have remembered. Chris had only dated briefly during high school, his only serious relationship ending at graduation when his girlfriend of a year and a half decided to study overseas in England.

The girl slid a pair of sunglasses up into her brown hair and Victor saw a flash of white teeth as she laughed at something his grandson had said. He had to admit, she was fairly pretty. His grandson wasn't shallow in the least; but the dark blue jeans and fitted grey shirt the girl was wearing definitely suited her. Unsure what to do; and somewhat hurt that Chris had not mentioned his new female companion, Victor cast them one last look before continuing down the street, making a note to call his grandson later tonight and set up a lunch with him.

It appears there was a lot to talk about.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and those who reviewed. Now that most of the intro is out of the way, we can start getting into what is really going on with Chris. **


	4. Victor

Chris wandered down the street beside Charlotte, the pair deep in conversation about their findings. Charlotte had called earlier that morning to tell Chris that her apartment was having its monthly inspection and she had been asked to vacate for the afternoon. She had been more intrigued by his cousin's vision, her brow furrowing when he told her the news.

"So at some point in the future, you're going to shove me into a closet?"

"Apparently." Chris said with a smile, ducking around the people in the busy sidewalk. "Someone comes after your powers, which means you _do _have them and they are important enough that somebody _wants _them. It was progress, actually, despite somewhat terrifying that my parents started asking questions."

Charlotte stumbled when a man in a business suit shoved past her and she flipped her middle finger up at his retreating back with a muttered word that Chris didn't catch. When she had composed herself again, she looked over at him, "So, why _are _you keeping this a secret?"

"Because I want to do this on my own. I _will _tell them, just once I know more. This is my other self… I'd like to find out about him myself, you know? Besides you, of course. You're my guide."

Charlotte chuckled and kept walking, prompting Chris to ask her about her findings. She looked around and pointed to a small coffee shop on the corner, setting herself down in one of the white wicker chairs and pulling out his journal.

"Did you do anything to this journal before you gave it to me? Or your parents did something to it before they gave it to you?"

Chris frowned and rapped his fingers on the table, "Uhm… no? Why?"

Charlotte flipped to the several pages she had marked and opened the book wide, "Run your finger down the middle there. There's little jagged marks and the story skips around so much… there's pages missing, Chris. And if your parents didn't remove it and you didn't remove it… I'm thinking your other self did. So why?"

Chris frowned and took the book, touching each page as she had instructed. Admittedly, he had agreed that the journal did jump around from thought to thought, but his current self had never been great with consistent journal keeping, so he had brushed it off as nothing.

A blonde waitress sashayed over, batting her eyelashes at Chris as she asked for his order. He hadn't eaten all morning and his stomach growled in excitement as he ordered a bowl of fries and a Coke. Charlotte ordered the same, much to the chagrin of the waitress, who rolled her eyes before wandering off.

"The entries are particularly removed _after _you mention Wyatt taking over, but _before _you come to the past, which got me thinking. The thing you keep talking about, how it will help you and save you… you don't say what it is. You also would think that for someone who keeps such a detailed journal, you would have said how you got into the past, yeah?"

Chris's eyes widened in realisation and he grinned, feeling a total rush of happiness to Charlotte in that moment. How had he not thought of that before? Charlotte smiled back and slid the diary forward, Chris finally seeing the several dozen plastic sticky notes attached to pages. She slid her finger to a pale green note and flipped to the page.

"I think it started here. This was the first page you ever started talking about going into the past. It's only briefly mentioned but this is where I think most of the pages are torn out. After this, everything becomes really patchy. At first I thought you were just busy, but later you keep referencing how much you've written down when there's actually nothing there."

Their food was set on the table by the waitress, who smiled her ruby lips thinly before walking away. Charlotte snagged two fries between her fingers and bit into one thoughtfully. Charlotte continued to flick through the diary, one passage catching her attention and she propped one elbow on the table and settled her chin into her open palm.

"Chris? Could I ask something?"

The boy looked up from his plate of fries and nodded offhandedly, not sure what Charlotte could want.

"Uhm… Bianca?"

Chris stopped with a fry halfway to his mouth and looked at her, seeing the hesitance all over her face. She looked as though she had crossed a line with the question, so he gestured slightly for her to continue.

"Have you met her? I mean, in this life?"

She had felt strange reading Chris' personal thoughts and feelings about his girlfriend, but she had been desperate to know if Chris had sought her out in the current world. He had spoken so passionately about her and Charlotte had read the details of their first encounter. Bianca had been fleeing a pack of rogue demons when Chris had saved her, sweeping her up and taking her into the Resistance. Their relationship had progressed several months later when Chris had waged a twelve page battle with his thoughts in the journal about relationships in the current world situation.

"No. I want to, but how do you explain to someone "hey, by the way, we were engaged in a different reality and you died after betraying me for my brother and turning good again in the end sort of."

Charlotte choked on her French fry and thumped her chest, trying to clear her throat, "WHAT!"

Chris snickered softly and dipped a fry into the ketchup bowl beside his plate, "Did you not get to that bit yet?"

"No…. I.. okay. Fiancée. Betrayal. I got it."

Charlotte pushed her food around and Chris drank deeply from his glass, "Now that I think about it, the missing pages make sense. My relationship with her was pretty erratic in the journal… maybe I can know more?"

Charlotte nodded but frowned slightly, "Do you think you would ever go looking for her? I mean, if you thought she could handle it?"

Chris wiped his fingers on a napkin and shrugged. It was a question he had put a lot of thought into. Sometimes, when he saw a tall brunette from a distance, a brief flare of something curled in his stomach and the potential of meeting Bianca made his heart race. It had never been her, and it was something he was thankful for.

"Maybe one day." He said finally, "But if I told her everything and she did believe me, would our relationship just be forced by out past? Maybe the love we had was dependent on the time period and the atmosphere we were in. There are a lot of questions to be asked."

Charlotte nodded in understanding before tucking away an errant strand of hair and turning more pages, "I haven't managed to get all the way through the journal yet, but I'm hoping you say something about the pages at some point."

"I might," Chris reasoned, "I mean, when I read it I wasn't _looking _for anything so who knows what I missed."

Charlotte flicked through the sticky-noted pages and she heard a soft snort that made her look up with a playful frown, "What's so funny?"

Chris drank deeply from his glass and pointed to the journal, "The sticky notes. Do you have a system or what?"

Charlotte chuckled to herself and closed the journal, "No real system, just anything I thought was important on a page I put a little note so I could find it again. There's a lot of information in here and I kind of…" she trailed off awkwardly but Chris prompted her to continue.

"I kind of feel like I _know _some of this already? I mean, reading this journal I'm getting huge déjà vu. It's insane."

Chris paused thoughtfully and then shrugged, "Your premonition power, maybe?"

"You mean the one we're not even sure I have?" she murmured dryly before closing her eyes, "Sorry. Uncalled for. I just want to be able to _help _you."

Chris smiled sadly and leaned back in his chair. "If you're not doing anything right now, would you like to come with me to the manor? I'll have to orb in and make sure it's empty, but there's something I want to show you that might help."

Chris finished his plate of fries and leaned closer, "There's a book called the Book of Shadows. It's something that has been passed down in my family for generations; it's a book of spells and demons and basically a how-to guide for a witch. I'm hoping if you flip through the pages you might trigger a premonition or something."

Charlotte's eyes widened at the thought of an entire magical book, but she sighed softly, "Maybe not right away. I have to make my rent payment by.." she glanced at her watch, "three and I still need to make sure my paycheck came through. But after that it should be fine. That gives you time to check out your house as well though, right? Give me the address and I can come by once I'm done."

Chris gave the address and Charlotte scribbled it out on a napkin, the curly slant of her handwriting marking the cloth before she tucked it into her purse and continued with her fries, "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about since we're here?"

Thankful she had asked, Chris seized his chance to broach a subject he had been wanting to touch on since she had made the revelation, but he had never had the chance.

"What happens in your dreams about me?" Chris asked quietly as he looked up at Charlotte and moved his head to flick away some stubborn strands of hair. Charlotte picked at a few of her fries and shrugged noncommittally.

"Stuff."

"Charlie… I need to know. It's not weird, okay?"

Charlotte sighed and dropped a few fries back into the bowl before wiping her fingers on a napkin, "They started when I came to San Francisco. I'm in this… white room and there's people laying everywhere. I think they're…" she paused and looked around before leaning in a lower her voice, "_dead. _To be honest. And I'm on the floor and my head is pounding but I look up and there's a boy… he's fighting somebody I can't see. And he's wearing this leather jacket and his hair's a mess and then he… he runs over to me and wraps his arms around mine and we disappear in blue sparkles. At first I thought I was going crazy but then I met you and I… you save me from something, I guess."

Chris locked his fingers and nodded slowly, trying to process her dream and what it could possibly mean. He must have been too quiet, however, because Charlotte nudged him lightly and offered him a smile.

"Could you say something?" she asked softly, "It's kind of awkward to say I've been dreaming about you and then have you do that dark and silent type thing."

Chris smirked and tilted his head to the side, "Dark and silent type thing, huh? Sorry, I just… we're clearly connected. I just need to find out how and where."

"Oh God, you don't think we're related, do you?" Charlotte spoke up suddenly, her face twisted into an unhappy grimace.

Chris snorted and leaned back in his chair as he ran a casual hand through his hair, "I seriously doubt it, but would that be so bad?"

"Well, kind of."

"Why?"

"Because you have a nice ass," Charlotte said with an offhanded shrug, "If we're related, it makes it weird for me to enjoy staring at it."

Chris gaped, completely thrown off guard by her response. Charlotte seemed to notice and she giggled, "Wow, if I knew it was that easy to shut you up, I would have said something sooner." She teased as she reached into her purse to remove several notes.

"I need to make my payments, if we're done."

Chris finished gaping and shook his head in disbelief. He wasn't used to women being so… forward about things. He reached for his own wallet and waved Charlotte's hand away as she went to put the bills on the table.

"No, I've got this. It's the least I can do since I can barely help with this power issue. I'll check out the manor and send you a message. Drop by whenever you've got the time."

Charlotte smiled warmly and put the notes back into her purse, but kept her eyes on Chris.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Chris nodded, but then shrugged, "I… I don't know. I just want answers."

Charlotte stood up and slung the bag over her shoulder and slid her sunglasses down to cover her blue eyes, "And I promise that I'll get them for you. No matter what."

Chris smile and stood up beside her, "..thank you, Charlie. I mean it."

"No problem." She replied with a light wave before she headed off down the street and disappeared into the bustle of people.

* * *

It was past four in the afternoon when he was expecting Charlotte. His mother and father were working and Wyatt was off with some girl he had been seeing, so he had told Charlotte to drop by at any point, just not at the front door. He knew he was being paranoid, but it was hard to have a secret stay a secret in this household. The last thing he needed was his nosy neighbour telling his mother that there had been a girl on the porch when she was out.

The back door of the manor swung closed as a sweaty and panting Chris jogged inside. He'd enjoyed spending some time alone out in the garden before taking a run around the block. He figured Charlotte would be dropping by soon so his time had been cut short, though he wasn't going to complain. The teen thundered upstairs to his room and pushed the door open as he stretched his arms.

Chris let the door swing shut behind him and he tugged off the sticky second skin his shirt had formed, sighing in relief at the cool breeze on his chest. He opened one eye in confusion. Breeze? His window was wide open and he clearly recalled shutting it due to the throbbing of his left thumb. He and that window had never been on good terms.

"Hi."

Chris jumped and raised a hand, ready to propel any demonic creature through the nearest wall. Charlotte caught the hand and smile sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I found something."

Chris's interest peaked and he frowned suddenly, turning to the window with a raised eyebrow. "Is that how you got in here?"

"You told me not to use the front door."

Chris's lips twitched at the corners as Charlotte tossed her bag onto his bed and climbed onto it, flicking through the notebook in her hands. Chris followed after her, but not before closing the window and staring at the latch. He'd been sure he'd _locked _the window, to be honest. Charlotte opened the notebook to where she had placed a red sticky tag and beckoned Chris closer with a crook of her finger.

"Right here. _Bianca came back for me. She has been working with Wyatt and I won't admit how much that hurts me. Was she working for him the night she came with me to the manor? Or in those months where she had left me? Her being back here worries me, how did she do it? I have my theories, but each is worse than the last. I'm just praying that…" _She stopped speaking and turned the page, "And here is where it cuts off. Your _next _entry is the same day; _Bianca came back here by a spell. She can only stay temporarily and it has nothing close to the power of my return. I want to say that makes me happy, that I believe everyone is safe, but I know it isn't true. I need to go back. I need to make sure the circumstances of my timetravel stay hidden and safe."_

"Wherever the pages are torn out, you seem to be leading up to discussing something important about how you got back. And here, you're worried that Bianca used the same thing you did to come and get you, but when you find out she used a spell, you're happy. I'm thinking that all these missing pages are about how you got into the past. So either _you _removed them, or…"

"Or…"

"Or maybe a demon did and now has the secrets about how to get into the past?" Charlotte suggested, "but that's not what's bothering me. I thought witches could time travel? Like, it wasn't a big deal. Whatever you did must have been something… bigger."

"Yeah…" Chris said slowly, his eyes darting to the door as though someone would emerge in the empty house.

"What if maybe that's what is causing it? The flashbacks you're having might be some kind of side effect of the spell? Without the pages… I think I'm stuck. Chris, I…"

"…you?"

"I don't know how any of this is supposed to tell me why you're having flashbacks. I mean, I guess your past life is crossing over into your dreams but there isn't any reason for you to be having so much pain. Maybe we could find the missing pages and that will help, but… nothing is adding up here."

Chris paced back and forth before sinking down onto his bed, "Maybe we just need the rest of the puzzle pieces. Let's go check the Book and maybe you'll get a premonition that will lead us somewhere. Magic _brought _us together, there has to be a reason, even if we're not seeing it."

Charlotte nodded before Chris watched her eyes stray a little and she smiled, "So, are you going to put a shirt on? I mean, I'm not complaining or anything but.."

Chris looked down and his cheeks flushed before he jumped up and tugged a white shirt over his head sheepishly.

"Uh, sorry. You caught me off guard with that whole coming in through my bedroom window thing."

Charlotte smiled and stood up from the bed and reached over for her bag, "Yeah, sorry about that. But you _did _tell me the front door was off-limits."

Chris just smiled to himself and headed out of his room and beckoned Charlotte to follow him. He had no doubts that she was a good witch, but if she had any bad intentions, it would show. The Book's powers had grown over time; so much so that now the Bok could defend itself, not just from demons, but from those who held bad intentions when approaching it. Considering many demons in the past had found their way around the defence mechanism, the added safety had helped his mother and aunts sleep at night.

The door to the attic opened easily under his touch and he stood aside to let Charlotte see the room in its entirety. When he had been in his early teens, his mother had decided to make the attic "ground zero" for all kinds of magical activity. Unless the potion specifically required it, the kitchen was off limits to potion making since that one time his mother's brand new, renovated kitchen had been covered in purple goo by his Aunt Phoebe in a botched potion attempt.

Pre-made potions were stacked on each shelf and squirreled away in various chests. Magical tomes stood side by side in the bookshelves; charms and baubles hanging from hooks and every surface where they could catch. In the centre of the room, placed on the same pedestal it had always stood upon, was the Book of Shadows.

"This… is what I wanted to show you."

Charlotte was still gazing around the room, clearly shocked by everything as she tried to drink in the details. Chris smiled and removed the Book as he headed over to the plush green loveseat and settled in.

"Are you coming?"

"…you're a witch." Charlotte said finally, her lips parted and eyes wide. "An honest to God witch."

Chris laughed and patted the seat next to him, "Yes, Charlie. And so are you. We might even be able to get your powers working if you come over here."

Charlotte didn't need to be told again, all but flinging herself onto the couch and staring at the large book with wide eyes. Chris handed it to her and she seemed hesitant to take it, so he settled it into her lap with a raised eyebrow.

"It's just a Book, Charlie."

His mother would have his head for saying that, but explaining to Charlotte that this was _more _than just a book might just send her into another frenzy of "oh wow" and he was really hoping to keepher grounded for the moment.

Charlotte flipped through each page in awe, her fingers stroking down the beautiful illustrations and various captions. Chris saw the way her eyes lingered on the spells and potions and the way she paused at each new demonic face. Seeing the Book had to be overwhelming for her, he had no doubt. The sound of rifling pages stopped and he looked down to find her stopped on a page about The Seer.

"Oh, don't worry. My mom and aunts vanquished her a long time ago. You're not a Seer like her; the Book would have rejected you right away. Nothing evil can touch it."

He took the Book from her hands and paged through it before finding the information about premonitions and good witches. He handed it back with a reassuring smile, "This is more like you."

Charlotte crossed her legs up on the couch and began to read. Chris noted how her nose scrunched up slightly as she did so, the freckles dotting her face making the picture adorable to see. Charlotte tucked back her hair and looked up from the entry.

"So I see the past, present and future?"

"Kind of. See, every power kind of generates differently in witches. Just because we have the same powers doesn't mean we can generate them the same. I have telekinesis, but mine is strictly moving objects from point A to point B. Some witches can transport them differently. Like, they can move a coffee pot towards them and having it fill up their cup for them. My aunt's precognition could be totally different from yours. And anyway-"

Chris cut off abruptly when the sound of an opening door downstairs echoed up into the attic. Panic seized in his chest and he pulled Charlotte up by the hand, ready to orb her out.

"Christopher? Are you home?"

He breathed a sigh of relief when his grandfather's voice filtered up the stairwell. Charlotte still looked worried and Chris pressed a finger to his lips and guided her back down.

"I'll be back," he whispered before thundering down the stairs. His grandfather wouldn't question why he was up in the attic and he wouldn't even consider going up there himself, so he and Charlotte were safe.

"Hey grandpa," he greeted warmly, squeezing tight into the hug Victor offered him. His grandfather pulled back from the embrace and smiled.

"Sorry to come right in but your mother told me you were home and I should just drop by. I wanted to know if we could reschedule our lunch? Maybe for tomorrow, if you're free?"

Chris frowned, not liking where this was going. He and his grandfather had kept a fairly solid lunch schedule for years and he knew his grandfather had been having a few complications with his health lately.

"Grandpa? Is everything okay, are you sick? Do we need to talk about anything?"

"No, no, Chris I'm fine," he reassured his grandson. Chris was neurotic at the best of times, it was usually better to not give him any kind of idea that something could be wrong. "But as for stuff we should talk about… is there anything _you _think you need to share?"

Chris folded his arms over his chest and shrugged in what he hoped was a casual manner. It wasn't like he enjoyed keeping secrets from his grandfather, but if he knew about this one it was almost certain he would want to tell Piper.

"Not really. Everything's pretty normal."

A soft creak of the floorboards upstairs made Victor's eyebrow raise. He knew nobody besides Chris was supposed to be here, which meant there was one very possible explanation. And with the way his grandson had just reacted to his question, it was highly possible that his hunch was right.

"You know, Christopher," he began with a knowing smile, "It's not polite to keep a lady friend hidden upstairs."

Victor would give his grandson credit. If he hadn't been watching him at the exact moment he spoke, he would have missed the half second change of Chris' calm expression. In an instant, Chris's worry had returned to an impassive face and he was eyeing his grandfather coolly.

"I think you're getting old there, grandpa. Nobody's here but me."

Victor's eyebrow climbed higher and he tried to decide whether or not to continue beating around the bush or to just dive right in. Then again, his grandson had called him _old. _Time to dive right in.

"So you _don't _have a brunette up there who is about 5'8 with blue eyes and freckles? And you weren't outside her apartment building this morning around lunchtime?"

Chris' eyes widened and Victor smiled, "That's what I thought. Sweetheart?" he swaggered to the staircase and leaned up towards the attic, "You can come down now."

There was a long pause before the soft patter of footsteps began descending the stairs. The young woman Victor had seen with his grandson appeared at the top of the stairs, biting her lip and looking guiltily at Chris. Victor smiled and extended his hand.

"Victor Bennet. Christopher's grandfather."

The woman stepped down the final stairs and clasped his hand with her own.

"Charlotte Perry."

Victor frowned and looked at Chris, who now had his arms folded over his chest. "Not to do with me. Just… coincidence."

The word tasted wrong in his mouth. Nothing was coincidence. There had to be something more here and there probably was. Though that was his last problem to be thinking about now- now he had to worry about making sure his grandfather didn't tell his mother anything.

Victor let go of Charlotte's hand and she looked to the floor, unsure what to do. She knew Chris had wanted to keep this a secret, but she also knew the only person in the world he as closer to than his brother was his grandfather. Chris was the first one to break the silence.

"You can't tell mom."

"That you have a girlfriend?" Victor asked in confusion, "You're eighteen, Christopher, I think she expects-"

"I'm not his girlfriend." Charlotte interrupted, "I'm just… helping."

"Helping?"

The two fell into silence again and Victor sighed, realising it might be time for him to pull the 'grandfather card'. He straightened up and crossed his arms.

"Christopher…"

"I can't tell you anything if you're going to tell my mom. Sorry, that's not how it works." Chris replied stubbornly. Victor sighed and gestured to Charlotte.

"How about I don't tell your mother about your lady friend and you tell me everything? I don't care what the two of you are doing but as long as you have at least a tiny bit of adult participation… I won't tell your mother."

Chris paused in consideration, his eyes moving between Charlotte and his grandfather for a long time before he nodded and gestured for the two of them to move to the living room.

"I suppose that's fair."

The three of them settled in the living room and Victor watched his grandson expectantly; though cast his gaze to Charlotte every few moments. Chris launched into his explanation and Victor hung on his every word. The further the story progressed, the more he began to wonder if keeping his daughter out of the loop was a good thing. Chris seemed to sense this and tied up his explanation, breathing out heavily and gesturing to Charlotte.

"Magic found her for me. Magic is never wrong; it just might not work how you wanted it to. So once we find out about Charlotte and then some more about me, we'll be able to work out why I'm having these flashbacks."

"Christopher, if you're in ain-"

"I'm not."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a heated stab of pain rippled into the brain and he clenched the sofa arms tight. His grandfather, thankfully, didn't notice, but Chris saw the way Charlotte's hand twitched as though to grab his own. Victor leaned back in the chair and rubbed his forehead. His grandsons were going to be the death of him. They really were.

"Is that why you wanted to change our lunch date?" Chris asked suddenly, "You saw Charlotte and I this morning?"

"Well, yes," Victor admitted sheepishly, "It was a little strange to see you with a young woman, Chris. You normally tell me everything about your life…"

Chris hung his head and shrugged, "I just want some time to do this on my own, you know? Mom has protected me from everything since I was born."

Victor sighed heavily, but finally nodded. Chris had always been the most independent of all of his grandchildren and it was starting to really show. He turned to Charlotte, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange and smiled warmly.

"You seem like a nice young woman… I hope you can help my grandson and keep him in line."

Charlotte giggled and Chris buried his face in his hands with a grumble that made Victor chuckle. "Well then, Christopher. I won't tell your mother about any of this; _on the condition that… _you keep me informed every step of the way. I want to know what you and Charlotte are finding out; I want to know when you break through on something and, most importantly, you will tell me before either of you go running headlong into a dangerous situation. Are we clear?"

Chris looked as though he was about to protest, but a casual eyebrow raise from his grandfather made him nod slowly and look over at Charlotte, who gave Victor a soft smile and nodded as well. Satisfied, Victor stood from the chair and eyed the grandfather clock.

"Well since we're working together on this now, your mother is planning on coming home in about ten minutes to surprise you. She feels bad that she bombarded you with questions the other day and…" Victor paused mid-sentence and eyed Charlotte, "..you're the girl, aren't you? The one in the closet…"

Charlotte clicked her tongue softly, "Apparently."

Victor shook his head slowly and looked back to address his grandson, "She's making your favourite meal and bought you that book you were eyeing in the store the other day. If you want to keep your friend a secret, I'd suggest orbing her out of here now."

A car pulled into the driveway and panic seized in Chris' chest. Victor waved a calming hand and smiled, "Go. I'll talk to your mother for a while and tell her you're just upstairs."

Chris took Charlotte's hands carefully and orbed away, praying that his grandfather would keep the secret like he had promised. Charlotte grumbled and leaned against a wall as soon as the orbs had disappeared from around her. "I don't like that, I don't like that," she mumbled. Chris smiled and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, sorry about that. You'll get used to it, I promise."

Charlotte slid her key into the door and sighed, "So your grandfather knows, but that's not bad right? He'll keep it quiet and we can work in peace. Did you want to meet up again or should we just wait until one of us actually has something worthwhile?"

"Uh.. well, I'm not doing much right now so whenever you're free, if you have anything for me."

"I have work." Charlotte said with a casual shrug, "For the next week, actually. But I only do that nightshift so if you need me, I'll be around."

Chris smiled and made to walk away, but Charlotte's hand on his arm made him pause. He looked down at her hand and then met her eyes.

"Chris… call me, if you start having flashbacks, okay? I want to know."

Chris nodded and Charlotte squeezed his arm, "I mean it."

Her hand fell away from his and she stepped into her apartment, one hand braced on the door as she rested her head against it.

"Goodbye, Chris."

* * *

Phoebe pushed past the masses of people bustling through the streets of San Francisco. The Bay Mirror was doing a piece on fortune tellers and seers (she had chosen to ignore the sheer coincidence in the fact that they had asked her to cover it) and she was late for an appointment. The last five people she had seen were phonies; she could sense it from the moment her foot landed on the shag carpet in the overly perfumed rooms.

This woman had a small shop tucked away in the corner, a small bell sounding Phoebe's entrance. To her relief, the small store was not draped in crystal balls and magical knickknacks. An elderly woman bustled in from the back room and stopped immediately, her lips curling into a crinkled smile.

"Oh, child… you don't need my help to see the future. I can tell that from over here."

Phoebe stiffened, but kept her cool with a casual shrug, "Not sure what you mean. I'm Phoebe Halliwell, advice columnist and reporter for the Bay Mirror. We have an appointment?"

The woman chuckled and offered her hand out, the multitude of rings against her hand shining in the dim lighting. Her bangles clanked as she took Phoebe's hand and turned it over.

"No need for secrets with me, Ms Halliwell. I know who you are. I do all of my readings in the back, come with me."

Phoebe followed the woman through a beaded curtain with slight suspicion. She knew that she and her Charmed sisters were well known in magical circles and there was no need to mistrust everyone she came across, but there was no way she would go into this without some hesitation. As she settled down into the plush armchair, the woman in front of her began spreading tarot cards out across the table.

"My name is Valerie, Ms Halliwell. Before we begin, I have to ask… is there anything in particular you came here to find out tonight?"

Phoebe set a tape recorder on the table with a questioning smile. Valerie nodded, giving silent permission for Phoebe to record their encounter.

"Well, Valerie, the Mirror is doing a piece on Seers and Fortune Tellers and I thought I should see one before I write my piece. I'm not here for anything particular, but if there's anything you see that is important, please let me know."

Valerie chuckled softly and reached for Phoebe's hand, "Turn four cards from this pile."

The reading went much as Phoebe had been expecting. The woman clearly had a true gift, though it was different from her own. While Phoebe had premonitions, this woman sensed the changes and dangers in the atmosphere. Anyone could manipulate tarot or palm reading, but there was definitely something about this woman that was real. The clock chimed the end of the session and Phoebe reached for her recorder when Valerie's hand clenched around her wrist. Phoebe gasped and looked up to find Valerie's eyes glazed and staring into her own.

"_Three sisters brought together by destiny. Torn apart by death. Reunited by fate. The man blessed by angels. Twice a man, once dead."_

Phoebe kept her eyes on the woman, her heart pounding at the words. Her sisters? The man blessed by angels?

"_Across the veil lies his downfall. The keeper of the grains will help him find his way to what he thinks he seeks, yet only should deny. A world within a world, trapped until the door can open. Keep the door closed… or the son will fall."_

The woman's eyes cleared and she slowly slid a piece of paper across the table and Phoebe's eyes widened. A sketch of Chris covered the yellowing paper and Valerie let Phoebe's wrist fall from her grasp.

"…save him."

Phoebe's purse clattered to the floor in her haste to snatch the paper but she paid it no mind, instead stuffing everything haphazardly into the bag before she tore out of the shop and into the street. She fumbled for her phone and cursed when only Piper's answering machine picked up.

"Piper, _do not let Chris out of your sight. _We have a serious problem. I'm on my way over."

* * *

The sun had set a long time ago and now the nightlife of San Francisco was bustling outside Charlotte's window. The brunette was sitting on the fire escape, her legs dangling down without care. Her forehead was pressed to the cool metal as she stared out at the twinkling lights and listened to the music and laughter filtering up from the street. Since the discovery that she was, in fact, a witch; and that her job now was to guide the son of one of the most powerful witches in the world, she had been spending a lot more time just…. Thinking.

The clock inside her apartment chimed twelve times and Charlotte stifled a yawn as she climbed back in through her window and latched it tight. Charlotte yawned again and opened her refrigerator, removing a can of energy drink and a banana. She devoured the fruit in three bites before guzzling away at the drink and tossing the remains in the garbage. Why she had volunteered for the graveyard bar shift, she would never know. But then again, the money was good and it paid her rent and grocery bill with enough wiggle room for a splurge every few months.

As she shimmied into her pants and work shirt, she tied back her hair into casual ponytail and swiped the journal from her bedside, slipping it away into a drawer. A soft pawing at her window let her know that the mysterious feline who had been visiting her for several months now (that Chris had identified as a familiar) was here. She opened her window and let the cat slip in through the crack and curl up on her bed. Charlotte scratched it between the ears and leaned down to nuzzle its chocolate brown fur.

"Nice try, cutiepie. I know you're no ordinary kitty. That's the last time I get changed in front of you."

The cat seemed disgruntled, but stretched out across her pillow as she headed out of her bedroom. A strange sensation rippled up her spine and she paused before turning her head back to the cat, now finding him alert on her bedspread with his eyes fixed on her.

"Wow, kitty… déjà vu."

The cat mewled and Charlotte scratched behind his ears as she disappeared out the door and down the stairs, not seeing the cat's agile leap to her dresser and the clawing at the top drawer where Chris' journal was buried.

* * *

Caged from the outside timeline by a thin veil, the man was once again hunched over a table, his matted hair shielding his face from view. The door swung open and a tall man strode into the room without announcing himself. The figure looked up from his blond curls and his lips quirked into a lazy smile.

"We are drawing closer?"

"He is becoming weaker. His mind is becoming more open… the girl is doing exactly what you assumed she would."

The blond sat straighter and reclined in the chair, one hand sweeping out with a sudden renewed strength and the flames burning low in the torches burst into life. His blue eyes turned on the heavily tattooed demon and he smiled.

"I have a message for you to deliver."

The hallways of the underworld were cold, hard mazes of stone that could only be navigated by those who knew their way. The demon did not break stride as he walked, passing a multitude of emaciated ruins of his kin; wearied demons scurrying into corners as their final powers oozed away. Their solitude was beginning to take toll on the weak. But they would not die. The demon approached a heavy door and snapped his fingers; forcing the two guards to pull away the heavy, oak doors and allow him passage.

A figure stood amid roaring flames, the screams of agony echoing off the stone walls as the victim writhed and tried to escape. The flames were deafening as they crackled and spit, the scent of burning flesh peeling from bone filling the entire cavern. The demon extended his hand and sent a tidal wave of water crashing onto the flaming pit, steam rising into the air as the screams turned to sobs and whines of pained relief. The steam cleared and the flame-mauled figure came into view; skin blistered red raw and blackened in a twisted shape. The demon watched as the skin slowly began to knit together, agonizing red becoming pale and unblemished before the figure was once again recognisable. She hung limply from her bonds, breath harsh and ragged.

"The Lord sent me with a message for you." The demon spoke, his voice noticeably tinged with a smirk of power. The woman tied to the stake raised her head weakly.

"What?" she spat as she threw back her hair, eyes filled with the determination not expected in someone who had just been trapped in an eternal fiery pit without the luxury of death to keep her company.

"You're losing."

The demon tipped his hand and the flames burst from the wooden stakes without warning, the woman screaming as the fire began to wind back up her body and consume her as it had done so many times before. The doors opened as the demon stalked away, his lips curling into a smirk as he passed the two heavyset men guarding the door.

"Let us celebrate, men… our time is coming."


	5. Pages

Rain spattered on the windows of the manor, adding to the atmosphere in the dimly lit kitchen. Phoebe had finally caught hold of Piper and called Paige over, though the three women had known better than to talk in a household where there were ears and eyes everywhere until the children went to bed. Apparently nosy was another Halliwell trait that would not be trodden down.

"I don't understand, how can you _not _know what could possibly kill my son?" Piper snapped from across the table, her voice low as her eyes darted up the stairs where her two sons were sleeping. Phoebe rolled her eyes but waved her hands to catch Piper's attention.

"The Seer wasn't exactly crystal about anything, but the important thing is that we know now, so we can make do with what we've got. Chris is in danger and we need to protect him. We've been in tighter jams than this before and if we just work this out-"

"What if we aren't supposed to?"

Piper and Phoebe turned their heads to where Paige sat at the end of the table, her arms folded and face calm. Her words had clearly not impressed Piper, as the chandelier above them flickered dangerously.

"Care to say that again, Paige?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"What if we aren't supposed to do anything about this? I mean… it's obvious the Seer is talking about Chris' past and we all know how that ended. The Chris that came to us in the past even said that he didn't know if the future he changed would have major consequences."

Paige shifted in her chair and looked at the ground when she felt the gaze of her two sisters' fix on her.

"Are we really going to ignore the possibility that this is something… Chris did?"

Phoebe reached out to grip Piper's arm when the eldest sister bristled suddenly. A china vase shattered into dust and Paige raised her hands defensively when Piper (only barely held back by Phoebe) tried to rise from the table.

"What exactly are you trying to insinuate, Paige?" she snapped harshly.

Phoebe forced Piper back into the chair and calmly looked over at Paige, who was now holding her hands out in front of her.

"Look, all I am saying is that are we really going to overlook the fact that past Chris might have caused this? The fortune teller even said _Twice a man, once dead. _That has to be talking about Chris' past self. Maybe when Chris went back to the past from the unchanged future, what he did cause this ripple effect?"

"Paige," Phoebe admonished softly, almost seeing the fury radiating from Piper's body. Paige brushed it off and continued, her jaw set and her eyes determined.

"Piper, Chris is your son. He's my nephew and I love him. But even you can't deny that when he came to the past, he did things. He _killed _a Valkyrie. He scattered Leo's orbs and sent us all to _pocket realms _all for the sake of getting us to listen to him! He did whatever it would take to save Wyatt, and that meant some crazy things! We bandaged him how many times? He orbed back from god knows where covered in who knows what and kept all kinds of secrets. Who is to say that he didn't make a deal when he was desperate? Maybe… maybe Chris sold his own future to save the future? What if this is…"

"Don't say it." Piper began."

"Unavoidable." Paige finished. "What if it's just his time?"

Phoebe shoved Piper down and stepped between the two sisters, "No. The seer told me we had to save him, which means we have a chance to. Now, the seer talked about… a world within a world. Something trapped behind a veil that Chris is going to try and move."

"Like the All Hallow's Eve veil?" Piper asked through gritted teeth, her eyes still refusing to cross over Paige. "Separating realms?"

Phoebe made a face and began pacing, "Maybe? I mean, she made this seem like it was something more than that, but maybe the concept is still the same? If the Hallows veil can let things in and out on Halloween, maybe Chris is going to find something similar?"

"Well what else did she say?" Paige asked again, taking out a pen to scribble down the message. Phoebe floundered before she recalled the words Valerie had spoken to her and she slid the message pad away from Paige and took the pen to scribble several of her own notes on the page.

"The sisters are obviously us. Prue, me and Piper… torn apart by death. Reunited by fate is when we met you, Paige. The man blessed by angels is Chris and the once dead has to be his other self. Keeper of the grains though," she went quiet, "I don't know…."

"A demon."

Phoebe made a face and slowly shook her head, "I don't think so. Valerie said the grain keeper shows Chris something that he thinks he needs to see, but it's dangerous. I'm thinking maybe Chris gets into this accidentally?"

"No, Phoebe," Piper cut her off, "Nothing in this house is ever an accident. There are no coincidences. Everything in this family happens because something makes it happen… and I will be damned if I lose one of my sons over this."

The three women fell into a long moment of silence before Paige finally spoke, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her pajamas as she did.

"I could ask the Elders about this Keeper of the Grains thing? I mean, I know the Book basically cover to cover and there's nothing in there about that. As for Chris… we'll keep an eye on him. Discreetly."

Piper looked like she was about to object, but Paige cut her off, "You know Chris. If he thinks something is up, he'll end up getting himself in more trouble."

Piper, to her credit, knew better than to argue that. Chris was as stubborn as they came. She smiled fondly and folded her arms over her chest.

"Okay. I'll tell Leo about this in the morning and from right this moment… we're looking out for Chris. He'll never even know anything is going on."

* * *

It had been a week since Chris had seen Charlotte and discovered that his journal was missing several dozen pages, though he hadn't been able to accomplish much in that time. He wasn't an idiot; he knew something was going on. His mother now almost constantly kept a close eye on him, asking about his day and trying to squeeze as many details out of him as possible. His aunt Paige was orbing in and out of the manor at least twice a day, always unannounced, making it impossible for Chris to do anything with some privacy. The most interesting, perhaps, was his aunt Phoebe. She had buried herself under a mountain of work and barely made eye contact with him since the night she had come barging into the house. He knew whatever it was had something to do with him… and that just didn't sit well in his stomach.

His eyes were burning and wet as he scrutinised the text in front of him. The print was tiny and run together on the yellowed pages, but he tried to force himself to keep reading. If he stopped reading, he would fall asleep…. And if he fell asleep.

It took only a half hour before he found his way to the bed in groping fumbles before he collapsed on the comforter, drifting into darkness.

_Blood. The stench was overwhelming and suffocated him as he searched blindly through the darkness. He could hear the racing of footsteps behind him and he staggered to the floor in the hope that nobody would search for him there. He could hear screaming, familiar voices of his Resistance members as they were slaughtered one by one. A hand seized the back of his shirt and he was yanked to his feet, black eyes burning into his soul._

"_I found you…."_

Chris awoke, gasping and drenched in sweat. His head pounded and the entire room swam in and out of focus as he fumbled for the bottle of painkillers beside his bed. His hands trembled as he tried to twist open the bottle, the shaking proving too much and the pills scattered across the floor. The teen pressed a palm to his head in an attempt to stop the agonising pulses. It took him several minutes before he had collected the pills and returned them to the bottle, though not before taking two and sighing heavily. When everything had finally moved into focus, he reached for his phone and squinted at the screen. One twenty seven. Early.

He flicked his finger across the screen and brought the phone to his ear, listening to the low dial tone. There was a click and a sudden rupture of noise before a familiar voice finally spoke.

"Hello?"

"Charlie… it's me."

There was commotion on the other end of the phone and the sound of glass breaking, shortly followed by Charlotte's voice and several expletives. He waited patiently until the sound was abruptly cut off and Charlotte was back in his ear.

"Hey… another one?"

Chris rubbed his forehead and shuffled back under his covers, grimacing when he realised how soaked the sheets were with his own sweat. "Yeah. Is everything okay there?"

"Just your typical Friday night," she replied dryly, "Lots of drunks and a total lack of common sense. We've had to stop four barfights and the new trend is apparently to throw glass bottles everywhere when you're angry."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you?"

Chris sat on the edge of his bed in his grey sweatpants and white tank top; massaging his head and sighing, "Everything hurts."

Charlotte leaned against the wall in the storage closet and sighed softly. This was the sixth time Chris had called her this week. She didn't mind, she had asked for him to let her know when he was having trouble, but it killed her to know he would spend the rest of the night sitting up in bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Look… I get off in twenty minutes. Did you want to come over? You can orb right in, I won't mind."

"You want me to come to your apartment?" Chris asked after a beat. He looked over at the clock again before listening intently. There was no noise in the house except for the occasional faint snore from his brother's room. Wyatt had a room at college, but apparently his roommate was "the biggest idiot ever dropped headfirst onto the earth" and Wyatt was enjoying actually getting sleep in his old room.

"Well… yeah. Chris, I know you're not going back to sleep tonight so I'd rather you came and talked to someone or at least just sat with someone for the rest of the night. Or even for a little bit."

There was silence on the other end of the phone before a soft, broken voice crackled across the line.

"…okay."

Charlotte smiled, but it slipped when there was a loud crash and more yelling from the other side of the door, "Well just orb in, I'll be up in about a half hour."

A loud shout and a massive crash made her head turn and she switched her phone to the other ear, "Maybe forty five minutes, I have to go. Bye."

Chris heard the connected click away and he leaned forward and pressed his palms to his forehead. He could tell the commotion in the background meant problems and he would have to make sure Charlotte was okay when she came back. He looked around and grabbed his leather jacket and slid it on lazily before orbing out.

* * *

It was an hour before Charlotte was able to stumble out of the bar, wringing alcohol from her shirt. She locked up and shooed several overly drunken patrons off from the outside of the bar and rubbed her aching shoulder. The bouncers had broken up the fight and tossed most of the patrons headfirst into the street, but that didn't clean up the mess they had left behind.

Charlotte took the stairs two at a time until she reached her floor, stopping at the end of the hallway when she saw the figure sitting outside her door.

"You could have orbed right inside," she said quietly when she reached her door and unlocked it easily, "I don't mind, I already told you."

Chris looked up with a weak smile, "Seemed too rude."

Charlotte took a long, hard look at Chris' features and her stomach twisted. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was ghastly white. She had no idea how long he had been slouched in the poorly lit hallway on his own, and she didn't like it.

"You smell like alcohol." Chris said as he slowly tried to stand. He had both hands braced on the wall but his legs still trembled. Charlotte looked down at her damp shirt and nodded, keeping her lips thinned.

"Yeah… what you smell is bourbon, rum and, if I'm not mistaken, raspberry syrup. All mixed together with the delightful scent of second hand smoke. A few of our regulars got into it… I think there's something in the water; it's getting out of hand down there lately."

Chris staggered into the room and Charlotte guided him to one of the plush chairs while she headed into her bedroom. She closed the door partway and peeled off her alcohol scented clothing and pulled on sweats and a tank top. She could still smell the alcohol on her body, but she could always shower once Chris had left. She re-emerged and found Chris curled comfortably on the couch, his eyelids heavy but he jerked awake every few moments.

"Do you need anything?" she asked softly as she padded over, her bare feet not making much noise on the hardwood floor. Chris shook his head slowly.

"No, I took some painkillers. It was just… thanks for giving me somewhere to get out of the house. I'm being watched like a hawk. My family knows something…"

Charlotte headed into the kitchen and began rummaging through her cupboards and setting out various ingredients on the countertop, occasionally casting an eye over at the young man on her couch.

"You know you're always welcome to come here. Just orb in, and if you're afraid you're going to disturb me, knock or something; but really, anytime."

She saw a soft smile flicker on Chris' lips and she smiled to herself as she busied herself with the ingredients.

"You want to talk about the dream?"

There was movement from the couch but no reply, so Charlotte silently spooned everything together before setting everything on the heated burner, stirring slowly.

"I found a few more things in the journal. Nothing much but, the pages in this section have been taken out in huge chunks. Whatever you were trying to hide… or whatever the demon took, it was a lot. I'm talking, 'entire parts of your life totally erased' kind of missing."

Chris sighed heavily from his position and frowned, letting one hand drop down over his eyes, "I don't understand. I get that how I got into the past must have been dangerous and probably top secret, but why would past me give the diary to my parents and not include the missing pages? If a demon took them, I assume he would have gone and found him. So it had to be me that removed them…. But _why? _And why did I leave them out?"

Charlotte set two mugs on the countertop and gently poured her creation into them, letting it steam as she dropped a handful of marshmallows into each mug.

"Well, I agree that it must have been you who took the pages out, but I'm sure it has to do with how you got to the past. Your time travel experience was different to the others, right? Yours was done in a way that meant you could change the past without being changed yourself. That kind of power would have to be dangerous in the hands of the wrong person. As for why you left out the pages when you gave the journal to your parents, I have no idea. You did it…. Why would _you _not include pages?"

Charlotte pressed the warm mug into Chris's hands and he breathed deep as the tempting chocolatey scent wafted towards him. He took a cautious sip and closed his eyes.

"…wow."

"My mother's recipe," Charlie said with a knowing smile, "She'd always make it for me when I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I'd pretend I was wide awake just so she'd make it for me."

Charlotte was curled up on the couch was her bare feet nestled under her body. She cradled the mug between two hands for warmth as she took several slow sips and smiled, clearly lost in a daydream of some kind. Chris wasn't sure if he should interrupt, but the curiosity was nagging at his mind. He knew he and Charlotte had not known each other very long, but he felt like they had been friends for years.

"Why don't you talk about them?"

Charlotte looked up from her mug and watched Chris closely. There was a pregnant pause before she finally answered, her words slow and calculating as though she was afraid she would say the wrong thing.

"When I came to San Francisco, I knew what I was leaving behind."

"Or what you were running from."

It was a theory he had been nursing in the back of his mind for a long time now. That Charlotte was running from something in Salem and had found haven in San Francisco for the time being. The only part of the theory that had holes was what she could have done that would have been so bad.

Charlotte clearly had caught his train of thought and she smirked humourlessly, "Or maybe I was running to my destiny as a witch without even knowing it," she teased coyly, "Did you ever think of that."

"I have," he replied honestly, "I mean, there's a lot of theories I have about you. I'm just waiting in the hope that one of them will pan out."

Charlotte chuckled and raised the mug to her lips, prompting Chris to do the same.

"Well, Chris… I have to admit I feel the same about you. I have so many questions and loose ends and clues that go nowhere… it's like doing a puzzle but the most necessary piece is missing and you just can't figure out the big picture without it."

The two settled into silence, thought it didn't last long. Chris had his eyes focused on Charlotte, grateful that the change of scenery and discussion was helping to ebb away the aching behind his eyes.

"Would you like to try something?" he asked quietly, draining his mug in two determined gulps. Charlotte raised one eyebrow and set her mug on a small coaster.

"Like what?"

"I found some whitelighter tips in the Book of Shadows. One was about how to help a witch with power anxiety and I think it might work for you. We can try and make your powers work."

Though she had been sleepy and comfortable in her position on the couch, Charlotte felt a new excitement burst from within her. A chance to test her powers was a chance she wasn't going to waste. Every night she dreamed she had a new power, each one greater than the last. Her inner rationality was telling her that she shouldn't get her hopes up when it was fairly obvious she was only in possession of a passive power she couldn't control, but the excited young girl inside her squashed those thoughts in her stride.

Chris smiled and gestured to her posture, "Cross your legs. Relax out. Kind of like yoga, I guess."

Charlotte complied without complaint, settling on the couch with her legs folded underneath her and her eyes closed. She felt a weight dip the cushion beside her and a warm hand ghosted over her shoulder.

"Loosen your shoulders," he instructed quietly, letting his hands settle on the hunch of her back and slowly working out the tension. "If you tense, it'll be harder. Passive powers aren't like active ones. Active powers respond to emotions; fear, pain… anger. Active powers are easier to use. Passive powers can take time."

Charlotte relaxed her shoulders and Chris smiled a little to himself, "And you don't need to make that face."

"What face?"

Charlotte opened her eyes to find Chris making an exaggerated impression of her face and she slapped his arm, "Right, okay. No faces. Well what can I do?"

Chris shifted his weight and smiled warmly.

"Get comfortable. This might take a while. Find a position you feel at peace in. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Forget about everything else and focus on your breathing, your body and my voice."

Charlotte shuffled around and punched several cushions into position before she folded her legs into a simple pose. She kept her arms loose in front of her, peeking one eye open to look at Chris before snapping it closed.

"Ready."

"Now image something bubbling inside you. Picture it as anything you like… waves on the beach, wisps of air, bubbling liquid.. whatever works for you. Feel it building from a place of power. Focus on your magic, feel it building. Let everything else fall away as you let that bubbling fill your body."

Charlotte wasn't sure how it would help her, especially considering she didn't even know if she _had _a place of power, but she finally settled on imagining her magic as small sparkles, much like the ones from the fireworks she and her family would see each year. The though made her chest pang and her grip on the mental image slipped, apparently noticeably. Warm hands curled over her own and Charlotte opened her eyes to find Chris looking at her worriedly.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said stiffly before giving her shoulders and experimental roll, "Just let me try again. Sparks. Building. Magic."

Her eyes fell closed again and she took several deep breaths, not focusing on the memories behind her decision. The sparks flickered and her breaths became slow and even. She didn't know how long she sat there for, but the small sparks began to build, bubbling and flickering into a roaring inferno. Charlotte kept her breathing steady before a strange sensation gripped at her chest.

Charlotte's eyes snapped open and Chris saw something in her eyes shimmer before disappearing back into the blue. He was about to comment when her hand gripped his and she all but hauled him to his feet.

"Go. Go back to the manor and get into bed."

"What?"

"GO!"

Chris heard the panic and urgency in her voice and his eyes widened as he orbed away without being told twice. His cold blankets appeared around him and he had curled up just as his bedroom door swung open and light poured into the room.

"See, Piper?" came the hiss he recognised as his Aunt Phoebe, "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"I just felt like…"

"Piper,"

It was his aunt Paige this time and he screwed his eyes closed, but kept listening. His mother had long ago stopped checking on him and Wyatt in the middle of the night. If he hadn't been in bed when she came in…

"Piper, he's fine. We'll sort this out now let's get out of here before we wake him up and he starts asking questions."

"I suppose," Piper whispered again, "Sorry for calling you both so late, I just had this feeling in my gut…"

"We know."

His position was making it hard to hear and he was hoping this would be the perfect opportunity to find out what his mother and aunts had been keeping from him. Chris rolled over, feigning sleep and curling deeper into his pillow. The movement startled his aunts and his door closed silently as the steady thud of three sets of feet made their way back down the hall. Their departure made him open one eye and sigh heavily; hating that he had missed his chance. Despite his disappointment, he reached for his phone and began typing.

**Chris: How did you know? Did you have a vision?**

**Charlotte: I felt it. I didn't see anything in my head but I just… knew. Is that normal? **

Across town, the brunette was sitting up in bed, several pillows cushioned around her comfortably. She didn't know how to explain what she had experienced, but she knew it was nothing like the visions Chris had described. A feeling had seized her out of nowhere and that was all she knew.

**Chris: That's okay. We'll try again soon, your powers are only just starting to work, and visions might be too much for the moment. **

In all honesty, he had no idea how to explain what had happened. What she was describing was intuition, not precognition. As far as he knew, his aunt nor his cousin had ever experienced anything like that. He rubbed his eyes tiredly when Charlotte's reply lit up his screen.

**Charlotte: Get some sleep. I'll see you sometime soon, okay?**

**Chris: Maybe later this week? I think I'm going to do some searching as to why everyone in my family is on eggshells around me. **

**Charlotte: Sounds good. Goodnight, Chris.**

**Chris: Goodnight Charlie.**

Chris let his phone drop down onto the bed beside him and he sighed as his head dropped back onto the pillows. This whole thing was so confusing and complicated, but he needed this to work out. He needed to know why these memories were causing him so much pain. He needed to know what had happened in his past life that caused him to tear several dozen parts of his life out of a journal meant for him.

He needed to know why, of all the people in the world, magic brought him to Charlotte.

And he couldn't stop the bagging feeling that everything that was happening was all connected in a way that was so much larger than him.

Chris curled up in his blankets and rubbed at his burning eyes as sleep began to ebb at his brain. Maybe when he woke up he could go into Magic School and do more research about Seers. He had no doubts now that Charlotte could see the future, but she was nothing like he had ever seen before. Powers manifested differently in everyone… but there was something about her that wasn't what he expected and he was determined to figure out what it was.

"Please…" he mumbled to himself as he buried his face into the cold fabric of his pillowcase, "Let me sleep."

The darkness of his room seemed to enclose over him and he let himself relax, falling blissfully into an uninterrupted sleep.

* * *

The fuzzy yellow ball hit Charlotte's bedroom wall with a low thud, bouncing back into her palm before she threw it again. The chocolate brown cat perched on her dresser eyed the ball hungrily, but did not move.

"What do you think, Cookie?" Charlotte asked as she caught the ball again, tossing it into the air before resuming her previous actions. The cat's ears perked and he yawned widely, prompting Charlotte to roll her eyes.

"Maybe my powers are broken? Can that happen? I mean… can they be damaged if you… fall out of a tree?"

Cookie made a soft sound that Charlotte was sure could pass as a snort and she sighed, flopping back onto her bed and screwing her eyes closed.

"I'm going to work this out," she whispered to herself. A soft mewl from her dresser made her lips quirk and she rolled off the bed to crack the window, watching as the cat slinked under the frame and perched on the fire escape.

"I thought familiars were supposed to help new witches, huh? All you ever did was claw up my furniture and leave me dead birds."

Cookie raised his tail and turned away, leaving Charlotte alone in her apartment. It was already close to four in the morning and she still hadn't been able to coax herself to sleep. The thrill of magic was still pumping through her veins, yet she had done everything she could to try and summon another feeling like she had before. The window slid closed under her fingers as she pressed her forehead to the cold glass.

"Give. Me. A sign." She pleaded. Her head hit the window with each pause in the blind hope that maybe it would emphasise her point. Her apartment stayed empty, only the muffle sounds of the couple above her having sex breaking the silence. Charlotte's teeth caught her bottom lip as she crawled into bed and reached for the switch of her bedside lamp, pulling back when an odd sensation tickled at the pads of her fingers. Charlotte rubbed her fingers together and frowned when something drifted down onto her bedside table. Upon closer inspection, several grains of sand were now piled on the wood, several more clinging to the underside of her fingers. Cookie must have dragged something in from god only knows where. With her luck, she'd be finding sand all over her apartment for the next week.

Charlie switched off the light without a second thought, instead choosing to burrow down as far into her blankets as she could in the hope that maybe something would come to her in a dream.

* * *

Across magical planes, a woman encased in flames bit off a scream as she pulled uselessly at the tight rope bonds around her wrists. Almost nineteen years of endless torture, death ripped from her grasp and her body forced to live no matter what she had been put though. They had left her to burn, taking turns watching as her body blistered and blackened before bursting back to life, only to be claimed by the flames.

The veil was weakening around them. If the veil collapsed and this world was given even the slightest chance to spill over into the next, her hard efforts and sacrifices would be for nothing. She needed to stop it for the sake of everything she and so many others had fought hard to create. She felt the burning tingle of her skin repairing and she knew this might be her only chance. The woman rubbed her forefinger and thumb together, focusing as hard as she could and feeling her magic flare for a moment before it was sucked out of her and the flames claimed her body and she screamed in agony.

Unnoticed amid the roaring fire… several grains of sand scattered into the air and abruptly disappeared.

* * *

It had been four days since her first brush with magic and Charlotte had yet to recreate the intuition she had managed. Chris had been back to her apartment twice, the pair staying awake to all hours of the morning working on her magic. Chris had created a spell outside his bedroom door that alerted him when someone came too close. He hadn't been forced to orb away yet, but he had told Charlotte he wanted to keep this from his parents for as long as possible and not being in bed in the middle of the night was a good way to send them into a panic.

Charlotte was buried under a mound of pillows and blankets when her eyes snapped open and her body jerked, falling ungracefully into a heap on the floor. Chris' journal tipped from her bedside table and landed in front of her, spread open and waiting. Charlotte grunted and rubbed the sleep from her eyes and reached for the book, retracting her hand when the gritty texture of sand coated her fingers. She squinted down at the pages before groping for her light, hissing unhappily when the sudden light dazzled her eyes. She scanned the page out of habit, rubbing the sand between her fingers out of boredom when a thought struck her like a bolt of lightning, her eyes going wide.

"Oh… you're a genius."

* * *

It was well past midnight in the Halliwell Manor, the moonlight that filtered through the branches of an old oak tree outside Chris' window cast intricate patterns on the floor and bedspread. Beneath the heavy covers, Chris rolled in his sleep and grumbled into the pillow.

_He rushed into the attic, slamming the door and shoving a heavy wooden chest of drawers across the opening in the hope it would hold off the demons. He scrambled for the Book of Shadows, flipping open the heavy cover to find page after page blank and useless. Rapid footsteps were approaching, thundering down the hall and Chris braced for the attic door to go flying open…._

_Taptaptap_

_He frowned. They were… knocking?_

_Taptaptaptaptaptap_

_He crept towards the door, hands raised for an attack_

_Taptaptap "…Chris…."_

The boy in question opened one bleary eye, finding himself in his room and safe from any onslaught. A soft tapping met his ears again and he frowned as he sat up and ran a hand through his messy hair. A shadow cast along the floor and he turned his head to the window, seeing a figure perched on the branch outside. He set his feet on the cold floor and opened the window, stepping back when the figure jumped forward immediately. When the bleary vision finally cleared, Chris saw Charlotte standing in the middle of his room, her eyes alight and a strange look on her face.

"Charlie?" he rasped, his voice thick from sleep, "It's three in the morning. My parents are sleeping, what are you-"

"I think I know where the pages are."

Any trace of weariness disappeared at those words and Chris pulled Charlotte to the bed. He raised one finger to silence her and whispered a quick spell that would temporarily block any sounds from leaving his room. He'd only used it a handful of times in the past, usually when he needed to scream out his frustrations with one thing or another. Charlotte was rummaging through her bag and Chris took note that she was only wearing her sweatpants and a grey hoodie. The familiar scent of secondhand smoke and spiced rum lingered in the air and he noted that it wasn't all that unpleasant; it seemed to be woven into almost everything she owned, much to her dismay.

If Charlotte had come _to the manor _at this time of the morning and risked being discovered, he should have known it would only be something truly important. Charlotte pulled the journal from the depths of her bag and she flipped to a page near the end of the book.

"_It seems as though my time in the past might be up. I don't know what is going to happen to me, but I am almost sure my life and timeline will be written out of history. Despite all of this, I want to leave something for my new self. I don't know how my timetravel will influence him, but I want him to know about everything. I'll leave this journal in the past with Piper and Leo and they can give it to me when I am ready. With everything that has happened in the past though, I know that if this journal fell into the wrong hands, things could go horribly wrong. I need to protect my secrets. I can only imagine what kind of sick, twisted things could happen if things were discovered. I just hope my new self is enough like me to uncover the truth. Sometimes you need to make your bed and sleep in it too."_

Chris nodded, remembering that passage well. He had always found it curious, but nothing overly strange. Charlotte, almost bouncing on the bed with excitement, rolled her eyes at him and gestured to the passage.

"Chris, you say right here that you have to protect your secrets_. _You tore out the pages to hide something that you were afraid of falling into the wrong hands, but _you _made sure this journal would be given to yourself. Do you think your past self would have wanted you to not know something important? _You _tore out the pages…"

Charlotte's eyes shone as she grinned and caught his arm, "But _you _would make sure they were somewhere you could find. Right here, I think this last line was a clue. If you were enough like him, you would be able to figure out where he would stash the pages. But I also figured," she continued, clearly on a roll, "that you wouldn't make it too hard. I mean, he had no idea how things would go down. I think maybe the pages have been under our noses the whole time."

"Under our noses where?"

"You would never hide something in the Underworld. Too risky. The manor is so often under attack that anything serious would possibly get found- maybe by YOU before you were ready. Magic School has way too many nosey people the way you put it… which means there's really only one place I can think of that the other you would have had access to that maybe nobody else would even think about… where did you stay when you came back from the future?"

Chris frowned for a moment before the revelation came crashing down on him and he turned to look into Charlotte's eyes.

"P3."

* * *

"Isn't there some kind of alarm system?" Charlotte whispered as the pair crept through P3. The club has been closed down for the week after a particularly violent brawl left a wall broken and several areas damaged. Chris had never seen his mother so furious since the time Wyatt had orbed him to the top of Mt. Rushmore because Chris stole the blue crayon during craft hour.

"I have the override codes," Chris replied as he shoved the door to the back room open unceremoniously. This room had been redone at least twice since he could remember and nothing had been recovered, but if the papers weren't here, he had no idea where else they could be.

"Make your bed and sleep in it…" he murmured, "It has to be here. I mean, where else?"

The two crept across the room, Chris fumbling for the light switch to bathe it in a fluorescent white glow. Charlotte stepped slowly across the floor and Chris cocked an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

Charlotte smiled, "You said this whole room has been redone. But this floor looks like it hasn't been touched in a long time…. Didn't you ever hide anything in the floorboards as a kid?"

A floorboard groaned softly under Charlotte's feet and she dropped to her knees, fingers smoothing along one of the cracks as Chris kneeled beside her. Charlotte caught an edge and pried the floorboard loose with a soft huff as it clattered up and dust bust into the air. There, nestled on several scraps of fabric, was a thick roll of papers, tied together with a ragged piece of string. Chris felt his heart skip a beat as he reached in and tentatively picked them up, catching sight of the date scrawled on the top of one loose page.

"This is it." He said, unable to wipe the happiness from his face.

The two sat on the floor, Chris carefully removing the bindings and letting the pages come free. His eyes scanned the pages greedily, wanting to drink in all of the information. There had to be hundreds of pages here, so much information torn away and hidden.

"What was so important? What did I need to hide so badly? How did I get here back then and why did I go through so many lengths to keep it secret?"

Charlotte held a few pages of her own, eyes darting across the page as she took in the new information. Chris was busy babbling to himself, excited to know that this information could be the key to discovering what his flashbacks were all about. He didn't notice the way Charlotte paled and her lips parted as she switched from page to page, her frown growing deeper. When Chris did look up, he paused in his glee, smile falling from his face.

"What is it? Charlie…. What?"

" July 10th, 2024. I saved a girl from Wyatt today. I knew he was going to attack the Elders and I orbed up to warn them, but they dismissed me. I was so angry but I left them to their work, at least until the sky started to burn. Whatever Wyatt was doing, it was powerful enough to impact the world down here. There were balls of fire raining from the sky and I orbed up to find total carnage. Leo was there, behind a pillar. He and four other Elders were holding a girl down and she was screaming. One of the Elders had his hands on her heads and was pushing magic inside in a bright, white stream. She was thrashing and begging them to stop but they didn't. Just as they finished, Wyatt found them and killed three at once. Leo escaped and dragged me away, but Wyatt had stopped the Elders from leaving somehow. Leo told me I needed to take the girl, that she would help me. She was a gift from the Elders. I tried to ask more, but Wyatt grabbed him and threw him across the room. The girl was moving so I went over to try and orb us out, but Wyatt started attacking me. I managed to grab her and get out, apparently Wyatt hadn't planned on me being there and I was able to get free. The girl hasn't woken up yet but we have her shackled to a bed in the underground of the Resistance. I don't know if I should trust anything from the Elders, and Bianca agrees."

Charlotte finished reading and Chris took his moment to jump in, "Well that's what you were seeing, right? Maybe you can have visions of the past life and my magic brought me to you so you can show me more about my life?"

Charlotte held up a finger, not saying anything but continuing to read.

"July 13th, 2024. She woke up today. We were worried whatever the Elders had done to her might have caused serious damage, but she was coherent enough to give us her name and location. She was a survivor of the Salem massacre. Wyatt had taken pleasure in setting fire to the area, killing most of the occupants, her family included. She and a group of survivors had been making their way to Boston when she told us she had been grabbed from behind and it all went dark. She doesn't seem to trust us, and we don't trust her. It's safer to be suspicious in this kind of world. She said she doesn't know what the Elders did to her, but I can see the lie in her eyes. I don't know if she is waiting to see if we are people she can trust, or if she has an agenda. Its times like this I wish my mother was alive, she'd know what to do. For now, all I know is that Charlotte Perry could be Wyatt's adversary and I won't risk losing more innocents to him."

Charlotte lowered the papers and looked up at Chris, her face now an unreadable mask. Chris's mouth felt dry and he shook his head slowly, unsure how to process the news.

"So… what now?"

* * *

**A/N: Abigail: You didn't leave an email for me to contact you so I just put the reply here; I hope you took the time to continue Ripples even though you're disappointed. I do have more of reasoning for Chris not having as many powers and one of those is that Chris came back from the future with telekinesis and orbing… and he saved the world. He didn't need any flashy this or super that, he kicked ass using his knowledge and wits and I always felt that was what separated him from his brother. He wasn't gung-ho powerful, he had regular powers and I never saw anything wrong with that. Secondly, Wyatt was explained as some big prophecy and it was "meant to be" and I was under the impression that Wyatt's powers were less parent-based and more prophecy-based. Leo had nothing to do with it in Wyatt's case apart from the orbing and the healing, which is what Chris can do. I feel as though my explanation of why Chris is not as powerful as his brother makes perfect sense, and I'm sorry you don't agree. **

**Will Chris in this fic only have telekinesis and orbing? No. His powers WILL evolve and there will be an addition or two, BUT they don't be super flashy like Wyatt's. I always felt that Chris' personality in the show wasn't suited for a "Mr. Twice Blessed" kind of thing and I wanted to stick with that. I'm sorry you're disappointed about the route I chose to take, but I did have my reasons other than "just because it's canon" and there WILL be some development. **


End file.
